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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727603">Mauga and Baptiste - LOOP</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion'>Papallion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Keep it Together - Collected Sigma Fics [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autistic Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper, Blind Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Canon-Typical Violence, Love Triangle, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:46:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mauga and Baptiste used to be as close as anyone could get - can they repair their relationship when Mauga makes a life altering decision?  And will Overwatch survive the experience?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean-Baptiste Augustin/Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Genji Shimada, Jean-Baptiste Augustin/Mauga, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Keep it Together - Collected Sigma Fics [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Mauga at Work</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeLady/gifts">EdgeLady</a>.</li>



    </ul><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga has a job to do, and he's going to do it while tossing around as many people as possible.</p>
<p>This is the same universe as Keeping it Together.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags will be updated as necessary - please do not hesitate to ask for tags!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mauga sauntered.  It’s what he <em> did</em>.  He sauntered into the office and didn’t care who noticed him.</p>
<p>Men and women sat at their desks, chatting, working, collating, printing, processing, whatever it was people in open offices at computers did.  Most had learned to ignore the strange and unusual people who sometimes passed through their office.  Talon paid too well for them to stop working to gawk at every mercenary in a trench coat or towering man whose head brushed the ceiling.</p>
<p>The massive Samoan was grateful for the tall ceilings, but he still had to duck to get through the doors.  He wandered the floor, watching people type, then found the break room.  Talon may have been a lot of things, but masters of coffee they were not.  </p>
<p>Mauga grimaced through a cup of bland coffee and wondered if he had Ogundimu’s ear enough to get something done about the travesty.</p>
<p>He tugged on the collar of his over-priced dress suit and wished he could take off his tie.  Suits did not suit him.  As he leaned against the counter, resting his butt where people cut their subpar bagels, he wondered if he shouldn’t complain about the food, too.  </p>
<p>These were accountants, the backbone of Talon, Maxamillion be damned.  Sure, the fancy boy had schemes and plots and connections, but these people, these men and women, were scouring accounts for errors and back door access and pennies skimmed from the top.  While Maxmillion might brag at finding a leak and saving them half a million dollars, he only found it because he reviewed the reports sent to him.  The accountants were the ones keeping Talon afloat.</p>
<p>That’s why Mauga got irrationally upset when he heard screams.</p>
<p>He barreled into the main office, quickly directing people to the stairs and safe rooms.  People once afraid of him for his size and skin color quickly accepted his orders and made their way to safety, especially after they spotted a certain cowboy darting down the hall.</p>
<p>Mauga gripped the hand of an older Black woman with fading blond hair.  “Take Miss Leslie and that guy with the pugs on his desk to the safe room, they can’t make the steps with their health.  Same with the pregnant ladies, we have three.  There will be agents in helmets coming up the steps, they’re with us.  I’ll draw off the attackers.”</p>
<p>What was her name?  It always bothered Mauga when he couldn’t remember people’s names.</p>
<p>“I hear you, sweetie.  Carolina, find Beth and Angie!”  She took off in the direction of the pug man’s desk.</p>
<p>Brian.  Pug man’s name was Brian Oliver.  And that was Harmony Smythe.</p>
<p>Mauga picked up a rolling chair and took off down the hall.  He rolled, dodging the first shots McCree fired and hit the wall, then swung out with the chair.  He caught McCree in the chest and knocked him aside.</p>
<p>The bullets didn’t do too much damage to the wood, and Mauga wondered if they were rubber slugs.  They had hit the thick wooden studs too evenly to be random missed shots.</p>
<p>Soldier: 76 didn’t even give an irritated noise and he raised his pulse rifle to cover the ninja, but he didn’t fire.</p>
<p>Genji was trying to access a door to the records room, and Mauga just couldn’t have that.  He flung the chair down the hall and the soldier batted it from the air.</p>
<p>By that time Mauga was halfway there, and he stepped over a groaning cowboy.  “You can’t shoot that overpowered chicken splitter inside, can you?” he grinned at the soldier.  “Can’t risk hurting nobody, right?”</p>
<p>The soldier paused, then attempted to roll to the side to at least flank him.  Mauga only had a vague idea what his plan was, but it didn't really matter.</p>
<p>Mauga whirled, gripped the soldier by the harness on his jacket and lobbed him out of the hall and onto the work floor as if he weighed next to nothing.  “YEET!” he chortled.  “No one ever thinks I’m as fast as I am,” he muttered, and grinned when he heard the soldier land with a grunt and a thud.  He turned, scooped up the cowboy, and bowled him towards Genji.  </p>
<p>He might have taken too much enjoyment from tossing people like empty soda cans.  He might have taken just the right amount of enjoyment.  He didn’t care; he was Mauga, and he had some terrorists to take care of.</p>
<p>A barrage of fire demolished the room nearest the windows, and everyone flattened to the ground as a sleek white helicopter rose into view.</p>
<p>“Who’s shooting at me <em> now </em>?” Mauga snarled, and dove to the ground as another salvo tore through the building.  He could see the soldier roll to the cover of a desk across the aisle.</p>
<p>“It’s not us!” the soldier growled out.  “Tell your men to stop!”</p>
<p>“Talon wouldn’t fire on their own building, least of all when I’m in it!” Mauga shouted back.  Not when it was full of Talon civilians, he hoped; he knew Talon could be callous.  This wasn’t a controlled burst, though.  It was wild and sporadic, with no pattern or thought.  Mauga took a risk and barrelled down the hall, but the ninja was already gone.  Possibly hanging from the helicopter firing at them.</p>
<p>Ninjas were like that.</p>
<p>Mauga heard someone else moving, and he bounced on the soles of his feet.  He turned, barreled down the hall with a scream.  He scooped up the first Overwatch agent he connected with, and slammed through a door.  </p>
<p>The safety door slammed shut, locking them in the store room, and flung the man into the wall.</p>
<p>“Hey, there!” he grinned, ready to start the beatings until he got the information he needed.  “How ya doing?” he asked as the safety lights came on.</p>
<p>“I was fine until just now,” Jean-Baptiste Augstine snapped and slowly stood up.</p>
<p>“Well, now,” Mauga said quietly.  “How ya doing, buddy?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Mauga and Baptiste, Take 01</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga gets to talk to his best friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Why are we in here?” Baptiste demanded.  “Did you have a plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, slam an Overwatcher into the supply room and smack him around until I got some answers,” Mauga said flatly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a plan!” Baptiste snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a great plan!  Works all the time!” Mauga insisted. He slapped a fist into his palm.  “Wanna try it out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just came to track a paper trail,” Baptiste sighed.  “Now let me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga deflated a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste’s voice was clipped and angry, and Mauga hated that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we need to be let out,” Mauga said nonchalantly with a flap of his hand.  “The idea is to lock an insurgent in here and come back for him later.”  He shoved a box and knocked on the wall, and it slid aside.  Behind the hidden door was a small room, and Mauga waved Baptiste inside.  “Small bathroom, little bed, some MREs, we can keep someone here for quite a while!” he explained as he unnecessarily pointed out the amenities </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, a normal sized person for a good while.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga’s head brushed the ceiling, and he didn't like that.  He watched Baptiste tap on the walls and doors, looking for a way out.  “We can’t get out.  Everything is sealed from the outside.  Once things die down with that chopper, someone will open the door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste sighed and sat down on the cot.  He had grown up with Mauga, had been with him many years, and knew he wasn’t lying.  “So there’s nothing to do but stare at each other, huh?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Mauga said with an exaggerated shrug.  “We could talk or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you at least take out those awful contacts?” Baptiste snapped, and Mauga fumed at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.  Whatever.  They’re agitating me, anyways.”  Mauga pulled a small case from his pocket and popped it open, then carefully put his red-tinted contact lenses away.  He squinted a little, now nearsighted, and shoved the lens case back in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are such a dramatic asshole,” Baptiste muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you SEEN who I work with?” Mauga said with a snorted laugh.  “You don’t get anywhere in Talon if you’re not a dramatic asshole.  Hoot hoot, mother fucker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste actually laughed at that.  “Yeah, yeah, I have seen them.  Met a few of them, too.  You think Overwatch is different, pard'ner?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both started laughing, and Baptiste had to admit it felt good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga plopped himself down on a box.  “So, how ya been, buddy?” he asked, and Baptiste leaned back against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste didn’t know what to say.  He sighed and leaned back.  “Well, I’m locked in a small, fortified room with you, so that’s a start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga turned away, hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’ve been in worse situations,” Baptiste continued.  “Like stuck in a car hanging over a railing with Ngyuen for two hours.  Had to watch cowboy movies with McCree and Mei.  Neither of them can sit quietly through a movie.”  He reached into his bag on his hip and pulled out a small wrapped package, and lobbed it into Mauga’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What's this?”  Mauga didn’t see the package until it was almost in his lap, and he squinted at it.  “Bonbon amidon?” he asked as he unwrapped the package.  “I haven’t had these in years.  I mean, since we last, you know.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the first things I learned about Overwatch is food.  Almost everything can be solved with food.  Mad at someone?  Make them tea.  Grateful?  Cook dinner.  Got a mission?  There will be cookies.”  Baptiste reached into his bag again, and held out a juice box.  “And juice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you, children?” Mauga grumbled as he pulled out a cookie.  He held one out, and Baptiste took it.  They ate quietly, sharing their cookies and the juice box.  Once that was done Mauga tossed the containers into the recycling bin.  “So, how HAVE you been?” he asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste looked at him and considered things.  “It’s been busy.  We’re keeping tabs on Talon, of course, and a group named Outsider, they’ve been a pain, and a new group, Chemical Zed.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga snorted.  “I know Outsider.  They’re a bunch of punks.  They all wear the same uniform.  Oh, one time we shot them with glitter cannons to keep track of them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clever!” Baptiste said.  Outsider had several agents with wildly different skills, and one of them might have been an omnic due to his abnormal strength.  He never knew which Outsider he was dealing with until they pulled a sword or custom gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t work.  Turns out they can change clothes really quick.  We were after Swordguy, we hit him with, uh, I don’t remember.  Blue, let’s go with blue.  Gunman was hit with green.  We cornered pink and blue, and blue just WALLOPS one of the heavies.  And someone is shouting on the coms ‘Pink has sword, pink has sword!’  And green just hauls out his sword and we’re all running.  They hacked the coms and just started shouting random colors!  They had the coms hacked for almost three miles.”  Mauga couldn’t talk without using his hands or changing his voice to imitate who he was talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this one voice just kept single Bible hymns.  ‘Yellow has gun, this I know, for the bullets tell me so!’” Mauga sang out.  “And this other guy kept breaking in.  ‘We talked about this, red.’  ‘I’m not red, I’m green!’  ‘I get to be green.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the story wasn’t exceptionally funny, Baptiste found himself laughing at Mauga’s amazing storytelling skills.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I just break into the coms, ‘Mauga don't give a fu-’” he started, then changed his voice to imitate a woman.  ‘Just you shut your mouth!’  He pitched his voice down, then up again.  “I'm just talkin' about Mauga!  OK, I can dig it!”  He made broad gestures with his hand.  “Mauuuuugaaaaa!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste looked over to his massive friend.  “Do you HAVE to sing about yourself like that?” he asked in a laughing voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga's laugh came from his entire body, a boisterous noise that rolled over the entire room.  “There was just silence for a little bit and we just started singing, hell, what were we singing?  Some old song, and the guy’s doing voices too, and everyone is just staring at me.  Oh!” Mauga said and clapped his hands.  “Don’t stop believing!” he belted out.  “Hold onto this feeeeeeling!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste laughed a little louder, and Mauga sang a few more lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then became serious.  “No kidding, though, Outsider is NOT to be toyed with.  A few hours later we were back at base, right?” he asked, and leaned a little closer.  “And I’m giving the debrief, and all I hear on my communicator is ‘Taaaaake on meeeee,’” he sang quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Outsider hacked Talon communications equipment?”  Baptiste was honestly stunned.  “They got past SOMBRA?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, all night it was karaoke.  I finally picked up a walkie talkie and asked them to stop, I was trying to sleep, I don’t wanna be your girlfriend, no way, no way, I think you need a new one.  But Greenie cut me a deal.  I had to sing the entire Bohemian Rhapsody and the guy would say good night!  I just grabbed some guys from the cafeteria to fill in the background.  After that he said he’d stop, then gave me the local weather, and then my itinerary, too.  Then he sang that old song about lions sleeping in the jungle to send me to bed.”  He crossed his arms and nodded.  “We had to scrap at least six operations after that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste gave a whistle.  “Man, I’m impressed!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.  Every now and then I can hear him singing something stupid like ‘Barbie Girl.’  I know he does it just to prove that he can.”  Mauga shook his head.  “They stole a satellite the other week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An entire satellite.  HOW?”  Baptiste leaned forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They actually stole the train it was on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A train,” Baptiste asked in a flat voice and Mauga nodded.  “An entire train.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga nodded again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga shrugged.  “Honestly, they’re good.”  He leaned back against the wall with a thud.  “Annoying, but good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste watched Mauga as Mauga got lost in thought.  He remembered when they first met as awkward preteens.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were assigned to a room together with several other teens in the orphanage.  Mauga had declared himself king of the room but at that point in time didn’t have the means to back it up.  He stood his ground though, earning two black eyes, a split lip, and a sprained wrist, as well as a permanent spot on their dorm advisor’s shit list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste had been thoroughly impressed and incredibly confused about his feelings for the other thirteen year old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga was three days shy of his sixteenth birthday when they first kissed, shy and quiet and chaste.  It wasn’t until a few months later they discovered how much better kissing was once their hands got involved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had to have been sixteen and hormonal and fresh from a training exercise when they first attempted anything past that.  Baptiste had stolen a dirty magazine the night before and the pair had spent most of an hour admiring it, nervously turning pages and trying to guess if the other wanted to try what they saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finally settled on an ambitious position, both believing they were far better at sex than their virgin status permitted.  It was disastrous with the lack of lubricants and experience, and later they were pulled aside when Baptiste was walking oddly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic assigned to their team groaned once she learned they were messing around with only a handful of porno videos and a magazine as their guidance.  She directed them to another medical officer who sat them, and a handful of other boys down, and gave them the straightest gay sex talk none of them expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of them spent the first half hour blushing and saying how they didn’t need this class, they knew what they were doing.  By the end of the class, however, they had gotten over their shyness and were asking valid and important questions.  Dr. Omar Franklin’s open and honest discussion with them only fueled Baptiste’s desire to go into medical training.  What if he could help other people the way Dr. Franklin helped them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few nights later, armed with more lubrication and condoms than necessary, they tried again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was messy and difficult and a bit slimy from too much lubricants, but so much better.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair struggled, tried again, swapped positions, and ultimately just gave each other hand jobs, but they counted it as a successful night well spent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga, of course, bragged heavily the next day, earning them both extra duties, but it was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste knew they could never go back to the fiery, passionate days of their youth, but maybe they could become something new.  As he reached a hand out to stroke Mauga’s shoulder the larger man spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just can’t get enough of me, can ya?” he asked, chuckling.  “I am WAY too irresistible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re something, all right,” Baptiste scolded, then slid from the cot.  He sat down next to Mauga and tentatively put his hand on Mauga’s shoulder.  “You’re amazing when you aren’t being an asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga laughed again, and slung an arm around Baptiste, and the smaller man instantly settled into Mauga’s side.  “Some place we’re in, huh, buddy?” he asked as they readjusted themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some place, yeah.”  Baptiste sighed and Mauga brought their foreheads together.  “I miss you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you,” Mauga said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It started small, with Baptiste reaching up and putting his hand over Mauga’s heart, and Mauga hauling him closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga held him close, kissing Baptiste as if he were starved, and he rolled on his back, hauling Baptiste with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their hands quickly worked their way under each other’s clothes, pulling open buttons and belts and shoving and tugging until their clothes were as messy as their pulses.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga gripped Baptiste’s hips and hauled him to his mouth, immediately taking Baptiste to the hilt.  He grinned around Baptiste’s cock as his lips and tongue worked Baptists’ head and shaft, making him quiver.  Mauga made Baptiste squirm when he worked a finger inside, and he could taste the precum already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait, slow down,” Baptiste gasped.  “Savor it.”  He reached wildly for his bag and Mauga hauled it closer.  Baptiste hauled out the lube and handed it over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga grinned up at him and started to say something, and Baptiste scowled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t talk with your mouth fu-”  Baptiste couldn’t finish the sentence since Mauga rippled his fingers, catching Baptiste’s prostate.  “Lube!” he hissed as Mauga choked while laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga lubed his fingers and slid them back inside.  He then swallowed Baptiste again and prodded deeply and mercilessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste had been with others since he left Talon and Mauga, but no one came close to knowing him like Mauga did.  Even after a year with both Lúcio and Genji they didn’t understand him.  Neither could give him what he needed, hold him down like he desired, or be as blunt and raw as Mauga was.  He wanted to adjust his hips to ease the growing tension in his legs but Mauga wouldn’t let him.  He bit his lip and groaned as he ran his fingers over his tongue and nipple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure when Mauga quit manipulating him with his tongue and just held him in his mouth, but he was aware when Mauga got a third finger into him.  His eyes almost rolled back to his head when Mauga pursed his lips, holding his tight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga pulled his fingers out and heavily lifted Baptiste from his face to rest him on his chest.  “You ready, buddy?” he asked, and Baptiste nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath was shaky and his hand gripped Mauga’s hair tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You doing OK?” Mauga asked, and Baptiste nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just, I’ve dreamed of this.  You and me again.”  He stroked Mauga’s temples with his thumbs.  “I’ve had a lot of regrets in my life, and leaving you is the biggest one.”  He kissed Mauga and could taste himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga pulled their foreheads together, and then cradled Baptiste.  “I missed you, buddy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you gonna fuck me or what?” Baptiste asked after a few moments in a cartoonishly deep voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It was so unexpected to hear Baptiste say something so blunt that Mauga burst out laughing.  He sat up and Baptiste slid down to sit on his legs.  “I knew you missed me and my dick.”  He hauled his pants down and his cock sprung up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste eyed it hungrily and resisted crossing himself.  It was just as large and vibrant as he remembered, with a ring of tattoos around the shaft in bold bars and triangles, and a single line down the center.   He ran his hands over it and thumbed the foreskin, making Mauga hum in appreciation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready?” Mauga asked, and he worked his slick fingers into Baptistes’ ass again.  “We can go slow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to have to.  I haven’t had cock this large since you.”  He was wondering if he could still take it when Mauga gripped his armpits and hefted him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga draped Baptiste over a crate and Baptiste slung one leg up over the edge on instinct.  “You remember how I like it,” he purred, and Baptiste shuddered.  He slicked himself up with more lube.  He cradled Baptiste’s back to his chest and adjusted his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga slowly ground against Baptiste’s checks and massaged his hips with his massive hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste leaned back against him and gripped the table, bracing himself.  He relaxed himself as best he could, but the anticipation of Mauga made his entire body taut with excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga pressed himself in slowly, and Baptiste groaned and he was stretched.  Mauga grinned and slowly pressed forward, and Baptiste gripped the table, framing Baptistes’ hands and pressing him against the table.  He growled softly in Baptistes’ ears, telling him all the naughty things he had planned for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste groaned in anticipation and wiggled his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga pressed himself inside, but his mood was ruined when Baptiste took a sudden and sharp breath.  He pulled out slowly and supported Baptiste as he slumped a little.  “Too much, buddy?” he asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just, not used to it is all.”  Baptiste took a few deep breaths and let out a deep sigh.  “I’m sorry,  but I’m out of practice and you’re HUGE.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga wrapped his arms around Baptiste’s chest and cradled him.  “You wanna stop?  We can stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste leaned against Mauga.  “You’ve changed.”  He looked up and over his shoulder.  “I heard you calling orders to help people when we go in.  You’ve been, well, not an asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga snorted at him.  He then sighed and cuddled closer.  “I thought a lot after you left.  After we met again.  How I act.  How you act.”  He sighed and buried his face in Baptiste’s neck, body bent over his.  “I kept saying, ‘Mauga, what did you do wrong?’”  He sighed deeply.  “Why did my buddy leave me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste pulled free and turned around, and hopped up on the crate.  He pulled Mauga down by his shoulders and kissed his forehead, and they pressed their foreheads together.  “It wasn’t you.  It wasn’t you at all.”  He sighed.  “I should have taken you with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naw, I wouldn’t have gone,” Mauga admitted.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you now?” Baptiste asked,and Mauga hummed in thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could answer they could hear noises at the door.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pair quickly dressed, grabbing and hauling on clothes in a flurry.</p><p>Mauga wrapped his jacket around his arm, ready to protect his arm, and he deliberately stepped in front of Baptiste.</p><p>“Move,” Baptiste hissed.  “I’ve got the weapon!”</p><p>Mauga’s voice was dark and heavy.  “Talon isn’t taking you back.”</p><p>Baptiste looked up, startled.  “Mauga,” he said softly.  </p><p>“Talon isn’t taking you back.”  Mauga reached over and gripped the door when it was forced open, and he hauled.  He swung his fist out in a left straight, but Soldier: 76 caught it.</p><p>The soldier was still shoved back, but he held Mauga’s fist tight.</p><p>He tried to say something but Mauga hauled, pulled him into the room, then flung him against the wall.</p><p>“Quit yeeting people!” Baptiste snapped, and put himself between McCree and Mauga.  “Everyone stop!”  He held his arms out, and everyone eyed each other.</p><p>Soldier: 76 groaned as he sat up, and he slapped his pulse rifle behind him and let the magnet in the harness under his jacket snap it into place.  “You got a plan, Agustin?” he rasped out.</p><p>“Oh, hey, look, I’ve been taken prisoner.”  Mauga was faster than most people thought he was, and he reached out and grabbed McCree’s wrist.</p><p>“Hey, now!” McCree snapped.</p><p>Mauga turned and slammed his back into McCree’s chest.  He held his hand behind his back, and sighed.  “C’mon, man, sell it.  I’m captured.”</p><p>“Soldier?” Baptiste asked and looked over.</p><p>“Really?” Soldier: 76 asked.  He eyed Mauga up and down then turned to Baptiste.  “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Look, I just threatened to stop Talon from taking my buddy here on camera so I’m not going to be in anyone’s good graces anytime soon.”  Mauga pointed to the wall with his free hand.</p><p>“There’s a CAMERA?” Baptiste snapped, and he punched Mauga’s arm.  He tried to ignore Genji’s stare.</p><p>“We got carried away and I forgot about it and now we need to split.”  Mauga moved, hauling McCree with him.  “I’ve got some gear in my office.”</p><p>“Boss?” McCree asked, and Soldier: 76 sighed.  </p><p>He looked over to Baptiste, and Baptiste nodded.  “I trust your judgement, Augustin.  We need to move.  Leave the gear.”  He pressed his earpiece.  “Tracer, bring the Orca around.  We’ve got a guest.  Let’s move people, stay low.”  He looked at Mauga.  “If you can.”</p><p>“That chopper still out there?” Mauga asked, and Genji nodded at him.  “Any idea who it is?”</p><p>“None,” Soldier: 76 snapped.  “Understood,” he said and pulled his hand from his communicator.  “It’s shooting at both us and Talon and the civilians.”  He adjusted the controls on his visor and huffed.  “Looks like it’s on the other side of the building right now.  Tracer can’t get close enough for extraction.”  He led them down the hall, but Mauga stopped.</p><p>“Hey, my office is close by.  We go down a floor and to the right, grab my shield,” he offered, and shrugged.  “It’s taken hits from bastion units, it can block a few shots from chopper!”</p><p>“It can’t hurt to try, right?” McCree asked as he tugged his hand free; there was no need for deception.</p><p>“We gotta do something,” Mauga said as the building shook.  He shoved past McCree and into the main offices.  “Is everyone out?” he shouted, and felt a hand clap his shoulder. </p><p>“Everyone’s out, even Talon,” Genji said, then both of them hit the floor as the helicopter came into view.  </p><p>It sprayed the room with bullets and debris, and once there was a pause Mauga stood up.</p><p>He gripped a chair and flung it with a yell out of the window, and it cracked against the helicopter’s side.  It was joined by a trio of Helix missiles, and it backed off.</p><p>“Can’t you hit the tail or something?” Mauga snapped as the team ran to the steps.</p><p>“I don’t want it to crash into the street,” Soldier: 76 said, and Mauga nodded and rounded the landing.  </p><p>Mauga plowed right through the door and into the next floor and pulled back as the smoke stung his face.  “Something’s on fire,” he pointed out unnecessarily, and hauled his shirt up over his face the best he could.  He took two rights and twisted a doorknob, and when it didn’t open and slammed into it.  He shoved the door open and stepped inside, grateful the smoke wasn’t as strong here.</p><p>“What gear do you have?” Baptiste asked and followed him into the room.  He blushed a little at Magua’s bare back, and Mauga opened a hidden panel in the wall.  Baptiste couldn't believe he could still get so flustered at something so simple a Mauga's massive back, powerful and broad with skin that flowed and rippled over his muscles and Baptiste tried to focus on the contents of the panel Mauga just opened.</p><p>A handful of weapons were locked in the case.</p><p>“Got a few stunners, a shock rod, nothing long ranged.”  Mauga stepped into his under suit and Baptiste automatically zipped it for him.  “Thanks, buddy.  I got demoted to protecting the accounting offices so there’s not much here.”  He rooted through his desk for his contact lenses and dropped a few boxes on the desk.</p><p>“Why?” Baptiste asked as he picked up a shock stick.</p><p>Mauga was quiet for a moment as he put in fresh contact lenses.  “Because I kept letting you go.”  He hauled his leg armor on, then his boots.  Like most soldiers he was able to gear up quickly.  As Mauga hauled his combination neck and shoulder guard on the building shook again.  “So, we got a plan?”</p><p>“We need to take out that helicopter,” Soldier: 76 said as he checked a stunner.  “Without too much collateral damage, and without hurting civilians.”  He looked over at Mauga as he opened a hidden door.  Inside was a pair of fusion-cell powered mini guns.  “I thought you said you didn’t have any long range weapons?  Where did you get those?”</p><p>Mauga was holding a large tank.  “What the bosses don’t know won’t hurt me,” he grinned and strapped it on.  “I hauled them off a tank a few weeks ago and fixed them up.  These babies run on a fusion engine and can get off almost nine shots a second.  I got the spread down to a constant four and a half degrees, range of twenty meters.”  He activated the tank on his back.  “Made a cooling system for them, but I still need to be careful.”</p><p>“You know your gear,” the soldier said appreciatively.</p><p>“He should, he makes it himself,” Baptiste said with pride in his voice.  “He made my exo-boots for me.”</p><p>“Well,” Mauga said as he powered up his weapon, “I can’t always be there to yeet you out of danger.  You gotta yeet yourself, sometimes!”</p><p>“You’re big on yeeting things,” McCree noted.</p><p>“I’m gonna yeet you again, just you see.”  Mauga pulled a visor on and swore.  “I don’t have pockets for my contacts.”</p><p>McCree picked up the boxes and put two in his hip bag, and Soldier:76 pocketed the rest.</p><p>Mauga nodded his thanks and the old soldier left the room. </p><p>“We’re going to head to the roof and see about that helicopter,” Soldier: 76 said as he shouldered the stairwell door open.  “Does Talon have anything to do with that thing still in the air?”</p><p>Mauga scratched his chin.  “Yeah, the authorities are in Talon pockets.  They won’t step in until Talon gives the go-ahead.  I don’t know why the higher ups haven’t shot it down yet.”</p><p>“What if we dropped it on the roof?” Genji asked.  “This building is already damaged.”</p><p>“I got a plan!" Mauga grinned as he jogged up the stairs.</p><p>“Are you going to yeet a helicopter?” Baptiste groaned.</p><p>Mauga simply grinned wildly.</p><p>“How do you yeet a chopper?” McCree asked, and Baptiste groaned.</p><p>“He’ll find a way,” Baptiste muttered.  </p><p>At least they were near the top floor and didn’t have to climb too many floors, but Mauga was still winded when Soldier: 76 kicked the roof door down.</p><p>Mauga reached forward and grabbed Soldier: 76 by the harness and hauled him back, then slapped his chest.  His shield projector activated and he blocked the first salvo from the helicopter.  “Gotta let it charge,” he said as the others rushed up</p><p>Soldier: 76 unleashed a single missile, and it struck the side of the helicopter.</p><p>The helicopter shook and vanished out of sight.</p><p>“Nice save, both of you,” McCree said as he ran by and Mauga slapped his ass.</p><p>“Get in there!” Mauga cheered and laughed when McCree glared.  He looked up to spot Genji bouncing off of the walls, and Soldier: 76 slid by him, both with their bottoms aimed away from him.  “Shield’s got ten seconds left to build a charge,” he announced and followed.</p><p>Baptiste easily fell into step beside Mauga again, sweeping his rifle across the roof.  The team moved slowly, and McCree held Peacekeeper near the edge of the stair bulkhead.  </p><p>McCree used the reflective surface to check around the corner, then pulled back.  “It’s circling around.”</p><p>“Shield ready,” Mauga stated and stepped forward. “Where’s your ship?”</p><p>“Tracer can’t get close because of the helicopter,” McCree said and waved them back inside the bulwark.  “I can hit the rotor fan, but I can’t guarantee it’ll land on the roof.”</p><p>“I got an idea,” Mauga said.</p><p>“How are you going to yeet a chopper?” McCree asked, and Mauga grinned.  “Is he always this creepy when he smiles?”</p><p>“That’s his, ‘I’ve got a dumb idea that’s totally going to work,’ face,” Baptiste groaned.</p><p>“Well, what is it?” Soldier: 76 asked as he peered out the door.</p><p>Mauga grinned wider, then gripped McCree by the front of his armor and bolted across the roof.  “Get ready to shoot it once I get it’s attention!” he shouted, spun once, and flung McCree the twenty feet to the next roof with a mighty yell.  He watched as McCree rolled when he landed, then bolted back to the bulkhead and dove inside.</p><p>“Don’t yeet people,” Soldier: 76 sighed.</p><p>“Jeanie, yeet yourself over there.  Ninja, you wanna yeet or be yeeted?” he asked, and Genji slipped out of the bulkhead.  He laughed as Baptiste followed, shaking his head.  He then gripped the soldier’s shoulder.  “You, you stay with me.”</p><p>“What’s the plan?” Soldier:76 asked as he watched Genji and Baptiste work their way to the other roof.  He adjusted his headgear and gestured Mauga close.  “And did you have to yeet the cowboy?”</p><p>“Yes, I had to yeet the cowboy!” Mauga sassed back.  “We’re going to draw it closer, I’m going to project my shield behind it, and Mr. Home on the Range over there is going to hit the rotor.  Chopper bounces off the shield and hits the roof.”  Mauga grinned as he heard McCree protest through the communicators.</p><p>“I take it I’m the bait?” Soldier: 76 asked, and Mauga nodded.  “Good plan, next time discussion first, then implementation.”</p><p>“Details,” Mauga snorted, and leaned out the door.  “I gotta get between you and the others, then you get it’s attention.”  Mauga waited until the helicopter rotated around the building as the others fired at it.  He bolted, rolled behind an air conditioning housing unit, and gestured to Soldier: 76.</p><p>The old soldier immediately darted out the door and fired a single rocket at the helicopter.  He knelt down and aimed again, and someone on the other roof fired.  Then the helicopter rotated, and Soldier: 76 took another shot.  He spotted Mauga waving, and pointed to McCree.</p><p>McCree focused, then fired.</p><p>The rotor cracked and sputtered and the helicopter started to rotate dangerously.</p><p>Mauga had hauled his chest piece off, and he aimed it at the helicopter.  He slung his arm through the torso and activated it, and projected the shield.</p><p>It struck the helicopter and it bounced.  The force of the blow shattered the hard light shield, and Mauga swore as the battery failed on him.  The helicopter quickly hit the roof and skid to a halt.</p><p>Soldier 76: dashed around it and up to Mauga.  “You ready to go?”</p><p>Mauga scooped him up, but the soldier’s grip on his wrist stopped him.</p><p>“How are you getting across?” he asked, and Mauga shrugged.  “Hold it!” he shouted as Mauga adjusted his grip to grab his harness.  “No one left behind!”</p><p>Mauga had no quip as he flung Soldier: 76 across the roof.  He turned and raised his min-guns, but a flash grenade blinded him.  He could feel the heat on his cheek and neck, and fired a few short bursts.  He didn’t want to hit the helicopter, but if it got Baptiste to safety, he would detonate the power supply.  He ducked behind the air conditioning housing unit, but he was far too large for the cover it provided.  He could feel his shoulder burn as something struck him.</p><p>“Mauga.”  Baptiste’s voice was patient and even.  “Jump.”</p><p>Mauga didn’t hesitate.</p><p>He leapt over the decorative trim of the office building and into darkness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Mauga at the Rock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga makes it to the Rock, and starts to get settled in.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He hit a solid surface and slid, but something caught his arm.  The ground leveled and he could feel himself sliding in the other direction, then a sharp tilt.  He came to a halt and felt hands pat him down.</p><p>“Lacerations, chemical burn, debris, but over all good,” Soldier: 76 announced.  “You good?”</p><p>Mauga’s vision cleared and he shook his head out.  “I think so,” Mauga said as he tried to sit up.  He groaned as his shoulder failed him and fell back to the floor.  He was embarrassed but he let Soldier: 76 help him sit up.</p><p>“Hold still!” Baptiste scolded.  “You are always so reckless!” he snapped and examined Mauga’s shoulder.  </p><p>A long, shallow chunk had been gouged out of his left shoulder, terrifyingly close to his neck.  Mauga tilted his head to the right so Baptiste could examine him.</p><p>“OK, looks like the bullet just grazed you.”  He quickly washed the wound and pulled out the Zip-Stitch.</p><p>A Zip-Stitch was a bandage designed to close wounds without tools, basically two adhesive strips connected with small zip ties.  Baptiste pulled the wound shut and moved on to the next one.</p><p>“Quit fussing,” Baptiste scolded when Mauga grunted.</p><p>“Let me know when you’re ready for a biotic field,” Soldier: 76 said as he reached for his visor.  He cracked up enough to release the face plate, and he pulled the face plate off.  “Everyone else fine?”  His chin was covered in scruff, but he had a full mustache.  </p><p>“My knee is acting up, but Angela can repair me,” Genji said quietly as he watched Baptiste’s hands.</p><p>“We talked about the porn ‘stache, old man,” McCree scolded.</p><p>“No porn ‘stashes in my Good Christian Orca!” Tracer snapped from the cockpit.  “You go full lumberjack or lose it!”</p><p>“My facial hair is not up for debate!” the soldier snapped back.  He looked over to Mauga and held his hand out.  “Hang on, you’ve got some scrap in your hair.”</p><p>Mauga shot his hand out and stopped Soldier: 76 from touching his hair.</p><p>“He’s right,” Baptiste sighed softly.  “Hey, put your arm down!  You’re aggravating your bullet hole!”</p><p>“Don’t know why you’re so mad at me,” Mauga pouted.  “I just saved your hides.”  He let Baptiste pull some shrapnel from his hair and check his scalp.  “You don’t have to cut it, do you?”</p><p>“No, once I get it cleaned the biotic field will take care of it.  What were you thinking?” Baptiste snapped, then sighed.  “I’m sorry, I’m just worried.”</p><p>Mauga sat quietly as Baptiste finished pulling plastic and metal from his arm.</p><p>“OK, he’s ready for the field.”</p><p>Soldier: 76 activated the field and set it down.</p><p>Mauga could feel the warm tingling and relief once Baptiste edged the field closer to him.  “You couldn’t do that earlier?”</p><p>“Not unless you wanted shrapnel healed into your wounds,” Soldier: 76 said as he rooted through his pockets.  “Here, those things eat calories.”  He held up some hand-wrapped packages.  “You allergic to anything?”</p><p>“Nope,” Mauga said, and caught the bar Soldier: 76 lobbed at him.  “What’s this?”</p><p>“Almost four thousand calories.  The pink one is strawberry flavored, the brown one is a Choco-Minty bar.”  He held them out and Mauga took the brown one.  “Anyone else?”  He pulled the pink one open and started to eat once the others declined.</p><p>Mauga took a bite and chewed a little.  “This is not a Choco-Minty bar,” he said.</p><p>“It’s a homemade Choco-Minty bar,” the soldier said with a shrug.  “They’re hard to find in Europe.  Eat up if you want the healing to take.  If you don’t get enough calories the wounds will reopen.”</p><p>Mauga stabbed a finger at Soldier: 76.  “Didn’t see you get wounded,” Mauga pointed out.  </p><p>Soldier: 76 shrugged.  “I just need a lot of calories is all.”</p><p>“You need to shave that thing off your lip or grow the beard!” Tracer called from the cockpit.  “You, big guy, get off the floor, there’s seating large enough for you!  Genji, seat belt!  McCow, you’re fine.”</p><p>“Hey now, Sparky, be nice!” McCree snapped as Mauga put himself in a seat.</p><p>Soldier: 76 picked up the spent biotic emitter and tucked it back into its spot in the shoulder harness, and hauled his face plate back one.  “Everyone’s a critic.”</p><p>Baptiste and Mauga buckled up, and the Orca II sped onward East.  “You might get tired,” Baptiste said.  “The emitters can take a lot out of you, and you’ve lost a bit of blood.”  He handed Mauga a water bottle from his kit, and Mauga drank.</p><p>It was only then he realized how much blood had drained down his arm.  “Wow.  I’m gonna need a shower.”  He poured a bit of water on his wound and winced.  He was only now starting to feel the cuts and bruises from the fight.  “I don’t have any clothes,” he said quietly.  “I don’t have anything.”</p><p>Baptiste reached over and gently took his hand.</p><p>“My bank account’s going to be frozen.  Hell, they’re going to give it to the Asset Reclamation Department.”  He groaned and leaned his head back, but the scrape on his head sent a dull throb through his entire body.  “Least I got a few months worth of contact lenses.”  </p><p>He could see his weapons and chest plate behind the hard light door of a weapon locker.  At least he had that.  He gripped Baptiste’s hand tight and sighed.  “And I got you.”</p><p>“We should talk about everything,” Baptiste said gently.  </p><p>“I know we can’t go back,” Mauga insisted quickly.  “Things are too different!  But we can still be together, right?”</p><p>“Maybe you should rest,” McCree urged quietly, and he eyed Genji.</p><p>Genji was trying to ignore everyone.</p><p>“I know I screwed up before, and I might screw up again, but I really want to try again,” Mauga said.</p><p>“And we can talk about it in private,” Baptiste said a little more firmly, and flicked his eyes towards Genji.</p><p>Mauga finally got the hint and nodded.  “Talking is a good start.”  He carefully pulled his hand away from Baptiste and crossed his arms, all while trying not to look at Genji.  It made him uncomfortable that he couldn’t gadge the ninja’s expression with his mask on.</p><p>The ride from London to Gibraltar was short, but it had never felt longer.</p><p>Soldier: 76 tapped the controls of his visor, going through scenes.  From time to time he held his hands in front of him and typed on a virtual keyboard. </p><p>McCree had a sewing kit out and was mending a hole in Genji’s hoodie.</p><p>Genji had his legs tucked under him and was meditating.</p><p>Baptiste stripped his exo-boots off and stowed them, then sat back down next to Mauga.  He, too, tried not to look at Genji.</p><p>Mauga rubbed his shoulder, feeling the wound.</p><p>“You want that wound to reopen?” the soldier growled at him, and Mauga put his hand down.  Soldier: 76 looked up at him.  “So you made your own gear?”  His voice was gentler, but no less gravely.  </p><p>“Yeah, I like to make sure it works.  I use the basic heavy gear, but it’s snug across the chest.”  Mauga gestured to his broad torso.  “And I adjusted the shield, made it work the way I want to.”  He grinned and forced himself to look confident.  “Mechanics is my bitch.”</p><p>“That’s a big skill.”  There was praise in the old soldier’s voice.  “Why didn’t they put you in R&amp;D?”</p><p>Mauga gestured to Baptiste.  “I wanted to stay with my buddy.  That and no one thinks of me as very smart.”  Mauga’s voice was bitter, and Baptiste put a hand on his arm.  “Very hostile work environment.  So I played dumb.”</p><p>McCree looked up from his mending.  He had repaired two holes and was finishing on a small gap.  “I hear that,” he muttered.  He didn’t like Mauga that much, but he understood him.</p><p>“You bounced a helicopter off a shield held at an exact angle to drop it where you wanted it,” Soldier: 76 said firmly.  “That takes instinct, skill, and a good deal of experience with geometry.”</p><p>Mauga wasn’t used to being acknowledged in quite a direct manner and he scoffed a little.</p><p>“I’m serious.  While your communication was poor, the plan was well executed.  I’d work with you again.  Provided you quit tossing your teammates around.”  Soldier:76 returned to his research.  “I wasn’t able to find any markings on the chopper.  The plate on the tail is covered, but it looks like a modified Blackstone Omaha Javelin.”</p><p>“But Javelins don’t have such a short tail,” McCree pointed out.  He tied off his thread, snipped it, and handed the hoodie back to Genji.  “Lena, do you know your choppers?”</p><p>“Nope!” she answered.  “Fareeha might.  Have you sent the file or are you waiting for debriefing?”</p><p>“Waiting.”  He pulled the face plate off again, but no one commented on his facial hair.  He then popped the visor so it powered down he sighed.</p><p>“Migraine?” Baptiste asked, and the old soldier nodded.  “Has Angela adjusted it recently?”</p><p>“It’s fine, I just need a break.”  Soldier: 76 waved at Baptiste’s general area dismissively.</p><p>“He’s not gonna take a break, is he?” Mauga asked, and McCree cracked out a laugh.</p><p>“Don’t gang up on me,” Soldier: 76 snapped and pointed in the general area the two were in.  “Wake me when we land.”  He crossed his legs and arms, slouched a little, and lowered his head.  In a few moments they could hear his breathing change.</p><p>McCree gave a whistle.  “Wow, he’s sleeping in front of you.”  </p><p>“Well, he trusts Jeannie’s judgement,” Mauga stated proudly.</p><p>“You didn’t hesitate,” Genji said quietly, “when Baptiste said jump.  You trust him.  He trusts you.”  He nodded a bit.  “So Soldier trusts you.”</p><p>Mauga wasn’t sure what to say, so he just leaned his head against the headrest and tried to process the day.  Actually, it was more like the year.  Ever since he let Baptiste go again in Port-de-Paix he had been heavily investigated, and they had found several instances of Mauga being within a dozen feet of Baptiste and somehow 'not noticing it'.  He had been moved to the accounting department three months ago and had been trying not to think of it ever since.</p><p>He examined his hands and waited for the ride to be over.</p><p>The silence wasn’t so bad after that, though.</p><p>After another twenty minutes or so he was able to see The Rock through the windows.  The island was mostly a rocky expanse, a teardrop with the point pacing north east.  The point was far greener than the rest of the island, and the west area housed the main buildings.  He could see the hover bridge pillars on the west, massive structures that were sunk into the bay.  Once activated they would create an electromagnetic road that hover cars could cross if they had the right frequency.</p><p>He waited as the Orca II landed, and Soldier: 76’s head snapped up.  </p><p>The old soldier quickly clicked his visor back into place, then undid his seat belt against Tracer’s protests and stood by the weapons locker.  He kept his balance as the ship landed, then grabbed his rifle from the locker.  “C’mon, let’s get you to Winston.  He wants to meet you.”  He gestured to Mauga and unlocked the locker his gear was in.  “You can leave that in the gear room.”</p><p>“I’d think Winston would want to look at it,” Tracer said as she lifted her goggles.</p><p>“Well, he can’t until Mauga gives him permission.”  He slapped his rifle on his back.  “You coming?”</p><p>“I need to talk to Genji and Lúcio,” Baptiste said quietly, and Mauga tilted his head until their foreheads touched.</p><p>“You take you time, OK?” he said quietly, and his chest swelled with heat when Baptiste smiled up at him.  He let Baptiste show him how to unlatch the pod, and he followed Soldier: 76 to the gear room.</p><p>“Gear goes here.  It’s just until we get you a room.  Some of the larger pieces fit here, and things people don’t want in their rooms.”  He took the pod and locked it in place, then handed Mauga the key card that popped out.  “Winston’s this way.”  He gestured to the painted lines on the floor.  “Blue takes you to Winston, red the medical wing, green takes you to the kitchen, gold to the living area.  Dark grey will take you to the hanger.”</p><p>A massive voice boomed at them from the door.  “Ah, there you are!  I was worried I missed you!”  Reinhardt stood at the door, holding out a bundle.  “They said you might need some clothes until we get you some made up.  I don’t know if they will fit you, you look more filled out.  Mako might have some, but he is away.”</p><p>Mauga accepted the clothes, an undershirt, shirt, and a few pairs of sweatpants.  A package of new boxers was tucked in the middle, as well as some socks.  “Thanks.”  He looked up at Reinhardt; their height was similar, but Reinhardt was much leaner.</p><p>“You can change in there, there’s no cameras or anything.”  Soldier: 76 gestured to a side room.</p><p>Mauga easily fit in the changing room, and he stripped to his under suit.  The briefs and boxers would be snug, but he had his own that were only an hour old.  The socks would fit, though he didn’t need them.  The undershirt was snug, but would do, and it left his wounded shoulder bare so he hauled it on.  The pants fit well enough so he hauled them on, then pulled his boots back on.</p><p>“OK, this works.  Thanks, man.”  He tugged the shirt a little and Reinhardt flushed in appreciation.  “Here, these won’t fit.”  </p><p>Reinhardt accepted the other pants and clothes back.  “I am happy to help!  Let me know if you need anything else!”  He tucked the clothes under his arm and waved as he wandered off.  “Dinner will be about seven, bring your appetite!”</p><p>“Are you allergic to anything?” Soldier: 76 asked, and Mauga shook his head.  “Good.  You can take a cooking rotation, if you get there in time.  Food’s a thing here.”</p><p>“I’m used to making a lot of food,” Mauga said as they followed the blue line to Winston’s lab.  “I would cook for my unit.”  He was sure they appreciated him for more than just his Sweet Coconut Bread.</p><p>“I’m the youngest of eight, so I cooked a lot.”  Soldier: 76 led him down a long hall.  Several couches and chairs were spaced between the doors, and some doors had shoe racks, welcome mats, or signs.  “Residential.  We’re getting you set up.  We weren’t really prepared so you might have a gym mat for a bed for a few nights.”</p><p>“That is incorrect, and you know it,” a firm voice snapped at him.  “We are preparing hard light furniture for you until regular furniture is available.  We are using the specs from Wilhelm’s room, but you are free to adjust them to your liking.”  The speaker was a dark skinned woman wearing a long skirt over slim pants and a form fitting top.  She was leaving a room and holding a clipboard.</p><p>“Mauga, this is Satya Vaswani.  Satya, this is Mauga.  No last name that I know of,” the soldier said.</p><p>“None.  All the cool people only have one name.  Cher, Thor, Bjork, Mauga, Bono,” he said and counted names on his fingers.  “You have cats!” he suddenly proclaimed.</p><p>Four cats were lounging on the couch in the largest sunbeam.</p><p>“Oh, yeah, there are a few.”  Soldier: 76 pointed to a creamy yellow cat, an orange one, a black one, then a large and fluffy white cat.  “That’s Birthday Cake, she’s Hanzo’s.  The orange one is Rocky, he’s mine, the black melting one is Boris, he’s with the doc, and the one on the back of the couch is Jetpack.  She’s Brigitte’s.”</p><p>“Her name is Mitzy, not Jetpack.  I don’t understand why they’re letting you show him around if you will not tell him the truth,” Satya huffed at him.</p><p>Mauga grinned at her.  “I don’t mind.  I like a sense of humor.”</p><p>Satya didn’t seem to approve.  “Your room will be ready in ten minutes.  Dinner is at seven.  There will be a vegetarian option if you desire.”  She nodded her head and entered her room.</p><p>“Told you food was a thing here.”  Soldier: 76 led him down the hall to a pair of double doors and pressed a button.  “Welcome to Winston’s lab.”</p><p>Mauga could hear music as he stepped inside the massive room, a cello and piano.  It was cluttered with tables with a few large projects spread between them.  He eyed the tire swings and the lunar lander hanging from the ceiling, then spotted the gorilla himself.</p><p>“OH, oh, you’re here!” he said quickly.  “I’m almost done!”  He tapped a few more keys and nodded.  “So, um, welcome!  We’re happy to have you!”  He knuckle walked over and held out his hand, and after a moment Mauga shook it.  “So, are you here to sign up?”</p><p>“I’m here for Baptiste,” Mauga said flatly.</p><p>“Oh, well, I’m certain you’re welcome, Soldier sent a glowing recommendation.”</p><p>Mauga huffed in agitation.  “Well, I’m not here to join up,” he said a little harsher than he meant to.  Mauga was aware the music had stopped as a voice filled the air above him.  </p><p>“Is something the matter?” Siebren de Kuiper asked as he floated closer.</p><p>Mauga jabbed a finger in Siebren's direction.  "See, this is why Ogundimu hates you guys.  You keep breaking into his house and stealing his stuff."</p><p>"EXCUSE me?" Siebren asked, eyebrows narrowing, and Baptiste stepped between them.</p><p>“Mauga, be nice!” Baptiste hissed, but the massive Samoan continued.  </p><p>Winston huffed and adjusted his glasses.  “Dr. de Kuiper isn’t a thing!”</p><p>“See, you’re a person to us, but to Ogundimu?  He doesn’t think of you as a person.  You’re an asset.  Widowmaker?  An asset he owns.  Reaper?  An asset he wants to own.  Sombra?  A mouthy asset.  The assassins?  Property.  They are not people.  And trust me, no one volunteers to be an assassin.”  He shook his head then looked up at Siebren.  “How are you, old man?”</p><p>“We are not familiar enough for nicknames,” Siebren snapped, and Mauga blinked at him.</p><p>“You don’t remember me?”  Mauga was obviously surprised.</p><p>Siebren looked down at him, then drew his legs into Lotus position.  He dropped almost a foot and peered at Mauga’s face, but as usual he did not make eye contact.  “I’m sorry, but no, I do not know you.  There was a great deal of damage done to my grey matter, unfortunately.”  Siebren tapped his temple.  “Many things are missing, or misplaced.  Why, I was trying to recall the Planck constant and all I could think of was a television theme song.  Which led me to an entirely different line of thought that took several minutes to snap out of.”</p><p>“Doesn’t that define the, you know, how waves and particles work on an atomic scale?” Mauga asked and wiggled and waved his hand, imitating a particle and a wave.</p><p>“Well, yes,” Siebren said in a pleased tone.  “Did we meet in a math or physics lab, perhaps?”</p><p>“No, I showed you how to use your shield.  I modified one Talon stole, then you modified it more.”  Mauga twitched his lips a little.  “You weren’t all there, last time we met.  You look better, too, not so tired.”</p><p>“Well, I’ve had a few devices removed from my brain and am no longer being manipulated,” Siebren explained with a flap of his hand.  “That does tend to let someone sleep better at night.”  He eyed Mauga.  “You’ve left Talon?”</p><p>“I’m with Baptiste,” Mauga said.</p><p>Siebren nodded.  “He’s very kind.”</p><p>“Well, even if you’re not here for Overwatch, don’t worry,” Winston said.  “We aren’t about to turn you in.  Welcome to The Rock!”  He handed Mauga a key card, and Mauga examined it.  “That will not only give you access, it will, um, it will keep the sweepers at bay.”</p><p>“Sweepers?” Mauga asked.</p><p>“Genji and Jesse got bored one day and modified their programming.  Just don’t bug them and you’ll be fine,” Soldier: 76 said.</p><p>“He’s going to mess with them now,” Baptiste said with a sigh.</p><p>“Jeannie’s right, I’m gonna.”  Mauga nodded his head.</p><p>“Just be aware the cameras will record it,” Winston said.   “If you’ll follow me to the medical wing we can, eh, we can get you scanned so we can fabricate clothing!”</p><p>Mauga nodded and followed Winston along the red line to the medical wing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga settles in a little and has dinner.  Will he EVER get a moment to talk to Baptiste?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first night wasn’t so bad, Mauga decided.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had showered in the medical bay and let himself be scanned for the clothing fabricator.  They were planning on pajamas and underwear first so he’d have something to sleep in, thankfully.  Angela fussed over his shoulder since Baptiste was still talking to Genji and Lúcio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know if he should have been worried or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela approved how his wound was healing, then offered the number of a tattoo artist she trusted.  “She’s clean and discrete when you’re ready for a touch up,” she offered.  “I’d give it a month, just to be sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bullet had taken a bite out of his tattoo, and he was a bit upset about that.  It had sealed shut, and Mauga knew  from experience the skin, fat and muscle would take time to recover fully and fill out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, everyone will yell at us if we don’t get to dinner!” she insisted, and motioned for him to follow her.  “I hope you’re hungry, Mei’s been cooking, and 76 baked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The old man bakes?” Mauga asked in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s very soothing for him.  Jesse made rice, too.”  She led him to the kitchen, and the door slid open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the agents were gathered in the long, rectangular kitchen.  One short wall was lined with windows and shelves, and two diner-style booths were tucked in each corner.  The booth on the far wall barely cleared another exit.  Between the booths, under the windows, was a set of shelves holding pots, pans, and other large cooking utensils.  The other short wall had a walk in cooler and a large door labeled ‘pantry’ in several languages.  The long walls had plenty of counter space and two ranges each.  Most of the center of the room was taken up with a U-shaped island.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people were sitting outside of the u-shaped island, but Satya and Hanzo were quietly sitting in one of the booths.  Hanzo’s cat and the white cat were sitting under the table, eating her own dinner.  The black and orange cat were sitting under the other table.  Mauga tried to remember their names, but that information skipped his mind at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several pots and dishes rested on trivets on the counter, and people were serving themselves and each other.  Mauga spotted the Spanish rice, plenty of salad, fried tofu, steamed tofu, a giant dish of dumplings, fresh shrimp, shrimp toast, shrimp fried rice, apparently there was a sale on shrimp, some stew, two types of fresh bread, corn bread, and both baked and mashed potatoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soldier: 76 was making more crepes, visor still in place, and as he dropped the next one on a platter Siebren floated it to Reinhardt’s plate.  From time to time he swatted someone’s hand away from the pies cooling on the counter with a ‘down, you feral thing.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mauga, here, I saved you a spot!” Baptiste called from the middle of the island, and Mauga sat down on a large stool across from him.  “Mauga, this is Mei, and this is Zarya.”  Baptiste gestured to a plump Chinese woman and a massive woman with pink hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, I’m Mei!” Mei said brightly.  “Here, shrimp dumplings!  Can you eat shrimp?  Oh, good, I made shrimp fried rice, too!  Here, try some of the sweet potato bread, Soldier made it this morning!  And here, some oxtail soup.  It’s very good!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zarya kept egging her on, too.  “Give him salad, salad is good!  The greens are fresh from the garden!  And the tofu the doctors made, very tasty!  Oh, look, corn bread, he should try that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lúcio skated by and put a large mug in front of Mauga and poured some tea into it.  “You look like a tea guy!”  He refreshed Mei and Zarya and sat down next to Mauga.  “Hi, Lúcio here, nice to meet you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lúcio and I had a long talk,” Baptiste said quietly, but with relief.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga was startled by Lúcio’s friendly demeanor, especially after Genji’s icy reaction.  He wanted to ask a few questions, but all conversations paused as a man dressed in black strode into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And look who’s back,” the soldier said with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The new man had long salt’n’pepper hair in majestic waves past his shoulders.  His warm brown skin glowed in the evening sunlight, but his smile was even warmer when he looked at Soldier: 76.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Been a while, old man,” he said gently and wrapped his arms around the soldier’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, hey there, stranger!”  Soldier’s voice was remarkably gentle, despite its usual gravely tone.  “I almost forgot what you looked like!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They married?” Mauga asked as he fended off another scoop of mashed potatoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since before I was born,” Lúcio said as he poured some tea.  “Hey, old man, you meet Mauga yet?  He’s new.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you used your name yet, mi alma?” the new man asked the soldier.  He tapped the side of Soldier: 76’s visor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.  Might.  Should.”  The soldier poured some more batter in the skillet for another round of crepes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we’ll just make up some names.  I’m Gabriel, I’ve been married to John for a while.”  This amused him, but made everyone else groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those are horrible fake names!” Soldier: 76 insisted.  “No one will buy that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we’re going by different names now,” Echo said in an understanding voice.  She had been eagerly serving people and flitting from conversation to conversation.  “I am Foxtrot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joel,” McCree said suddenly.  “I’m Joel.  I’m from Texas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be Slaghammer!” Reinhardt said and hoisted his mug high.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren quickly gathered the flung coffee and gathered it into a sphere, and he dropped it back in Reinhardt’s mug.  “Hm, let’s see, who would I be,” he mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lars!” Angela said with a sweep of her hand.  “No?” she said as Siebren shook his head.  “Hans!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hans,” he agreed.  “You can be Mrs. Ridgeley.  I knew a Mrs. Ridgeley when I was younger.  But I don’t remember who she was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor,” Angela corrected quickly.  “Doctor Ridgeley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a secret identity, doc,” McCree said and took a piece of shrimp toast from Genji’s plate.  “Thanks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genji waited until McCree wasn’t looking and poured some salt in his coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are meals always this chaotic?” Mauga asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste shrugged, then waved his hand in a so-so gesture.  “Usually it’s a bit quieter, but sometimes things get a little loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHO SAID LOUD?” a blond man called out as he stumbled into the room.  “Oh, we got a full spread, nice!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The giant hamster on his shoulder protested and gripped his denim vest as the blond came to a sudden stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, mini mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamison, what happened to your leg?” Angela asked as she looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, it’s fine,” the blond said and accepted a cup of tea from Lúcio.  “Thanks, music man.  Landed wrong, thing got all split.”  He gestured to his damaged peg leg; it was duct taped together and obviously missing at least an inch.  His knee was red and agitated, and he adjusted to a more comfortable position as he accepted a piece of shrimp toast from Mei.  “Don’t need much, ate before we got here.”  He quickly broke off a chunk for the hamster.  “Thanks. Doc Ice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mako, please have Jamison in the medical wing tonight,” Angela asked in a tired voice.  “Mauga, this is Junkrat and Roadhog.”  She nodded at the protesting hamster.  “I’m sorry, and Hammond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.”  A massive man entered the room, accepted a cup of tea from Lúcio, and hefted his gas mask to drink it.  “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll bring you guys down some rice and stuff once Angie’s had a look at you,” Lúcio offered.  “We got plenty of steamed tofu, the fried stuff’s fried in canola.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘preciate it.”  Roadhog paused and looked over at Mauga.  He eyed him for a good moment, and Mauga leaned around Zarya for a better look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘sup?” Mauga asked, and Roadhog nodded at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga then stood up and held his hand out, and Roadhog quickly shook it with a firm grasp.  They parted and Mauga sat down again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winny said you needed clothes, mate?  Roadie might have some to fit.”  Junkrat broke off another piece of shrimp toast and gave it to Hammond, who refused and pointed to a plate.  “You need prawns, mini mate?  Oh, he wants some of the prawns there.”  He took the shrimp from Mei’s offered chopsticks and handed it over.  “But his shirts might fit’cha.  Roadie, not Hammy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naw, I got some fabricating.  Gonna have to modify them, though.  They never fit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel looked up from John’s back.  “You tailor your own clothes?” he asked as he slid a crepe onto Brigitte’s plate.  His face held a serene yet mischievous expression Mauga just couldn’t place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, been doing it for a while.  You’ll never guess who taught me, either.”  He made beckoning motions with his hands.  “C’mon, guess, guess!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not this again,” Baptiste said softly.  “You know no one believes you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga twitched his lips.  “But it’s true.  Seriously, someone high up in Talon taught me to hem my own pants and stuff.  Guess!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The agents tossed out the names of several Talon agents, and Junkrat pondered.  “Reaper,” he said with a flap of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep!”  Mauga crossed his arms.  “One day he comes up, says he’s tired of me being sloppy, and dragged me to a room.  Had a sewing machine.  Took his gloves off and taught me to sew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reaper taught you to tailor your clothing?” Gabriel asked, and Mauga nodded.  “I suppose his coat is well fitted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was a cranky bastard but I learned a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s expression flickered for a moment, but he just turned to press his face against John’s neck.  “I don’t have a lot of time, sunshine.  I need to get back into the field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone take over.”  John quickly pulled his apron off and shoved it at Genji.  “We’re going to debrief.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Debrief,” Genji muttered as he tied the apron on.  Mauga spotted him dropping salt in his tea as his hand passed over his cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember, you don’t need a lot of batter.  Slip, grip, and flip.  Don’t screw around.  C’mon, gorgeous, let’s go over your mission notes.”  John easily led Gabriel from the kitchen.  “Let the pies cool!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Debrief,” Mauga mused, and McCree rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, yeah.  Business first.”  He took a drink of his coffee and sputtered a little.  He then swapped his mug for Genji’s tea and sputtered some more.  “Something wrong with the water?” he muttered and sniffed it. "We get some before it's done being purified?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lúcio eyed Genji, and Genji shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you’ll have to check the desalination tanks before bed,” Genji said serenely and started another crepe.  “Who wants the next crepe?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga lay in his bed and fiddled with the tablet.  His living space was nice and quite large.  He had a front room, his bedroom, then a bathroom.  He was eager to go running in the morning; he loved running on the sand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste had explained that they used to have half of that space.  The old units were a pair of mirrored rooms with a shared bathroom between them.  They decided, however, that they needed more space so they sealed one of the bathroom doors and added a door between the other two rooms, doubling the living space and giving everyone their own bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some people were living on The Rock full time, like the soldier and Mei, who had no other home.  Others, like Lena, had homes elsewhere and split their time here and there.  And the Junkers, he had learned as Baptiste finished his tour of the basic area, had two cargo containers welded together on the beach under the hover bridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They do better when they’re camping outside.  They’re Junkers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made sense to Mauga.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a closet full of basic clothes, some towels, and some hand sewing supplies.  Winston said they had a second sewing machine somewhere, but the non-essential supplies were low on the priority list so they were still unpacked, even almost six years later.  There was a sewing machine in the common room he could use, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga flipped through the pictures on the shared drive.  The cat folder was, by far, the largest.  He skimmed through pictures of Mitzi ‘helping’ Brigitte and Reinhardt, the dozens Hanzo took of Birthday Cake lounging in the sun, several of Boris, and finally, a picture of Soldier: 76 bottle feeding a tiny little Rocky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed the ‘play’ button and pressed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, hold it up, there you go.”  The camera panned between a man with a topknot and green eyes and Soldier: 76, now wearing aviator glasses.  It was odd to see the soldier in an old Bruce Springsteen t-shirt and jeans.  “Don’t hold him like a human baby, that’ll give him indigestion.  Kittens nurse bellies to the ground.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, this ain’t my first kitten.”  Soldier: 76 was holding baby Rocky in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant Dr. Ziegler.”  The other man easily held another orange kitten and the bottle in one hand, and that camera pointed to Angela.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s so tiny!”  Angela adjusted her grip on the kitten and held the bottle properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you go!”  The man’s voice was familiar, but Mauga couldn’t place it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was another clip, and he watched as the stranger collected the kittens.  It was labeled “Top Ten Anime Betrayals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Bri, I need Viola.  Flute is lonely.”  He gently took the little white kitten and put her in a basket with a black kitten.  “And you, (reacted), I need Banjo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fareeha, if this miscreant tries to take Rocky from me you have my permission to shoot him,” the soldier growled.  The kitten clung to him, sleeping soundly and snoring a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“(Redacted,)” the man said, “he needs medical care.  C’mon, you can have him, but I need to patch him up first.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga almost found it comical how the soldier clung to baby Rocky, but Soldier: 76 finally relented and let the man put him in the basket with his siblings.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soldier: 76 gently pet the sleeping kitten’s head and stepped back.  “Will he be OK?” he asked quietly.  “His breathing is so labored.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he’s got his antibiotics, that should clear his lungs up.  But I’m not certain about his vision.  Might be blind.”  The man watched as Soldier: 76 continued to pet the kitten.  “Look, you can have him, OK?  You’ll need to learn how to care for a blind cat, they have needs, but I’m sure you know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga was saddened by the sorrow in Soldier: 76’s voice.  He had seen this man mercilessly tear through an entire troupe of men, had seen him go toe-to-toe with heavies and omnics, and knew how vicious in combat he could be.  But he had cared about his wounds on the transport to the Rock, tonight had cooked for people, and he was saddened he couldn’t have a kitten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you, kitten.”  The man held the box out, and McCree scowled at him.  “C’mon, cowboy, you can come play with them later.  I need Guitar, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McCree put a black kitten in the box.  “Fine.”  His eyes lit up as Guitar stood up to scream at him.  “Are you sure we can’t keep just one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“(Redacted) is keeping one.”  The man counted the kittens.  “I’m missing another white one.  C’mon, who’s got Clarinet?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reinhardt reluctantly held out his hands; the kitten was all but invisible behind his fingers.  “Here.  Take my heart from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, you’re all so dramatic.  Seriously, Rein, come to the house, bring the doc, you guys can ride horses and play with kittens!  I’ll feed you.  No one goes hungry when an Italian cooks.”  He held the basket out to Reinhardt, and Clarinet went in the basket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga read some of the comments, noting how most of the others were teasing the three men for getting sad over kittens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t see me getting upset over Hockey Puck, did you?” Fareeha typed.  She included a picture of her with a black cat.  There was another picture of Hockey Puck and Rocky sitting next to each other with a glittering, shining rainbow over them that said ‘brothers.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga flipped through some pictures of a barbecue, a birthday dinner, a massive train set, and Siebren de Kiuper floating almost upside down as he wrote something down, his coffee having escaped its mug and several small snacks rotating him.  There was a video of Siebren reading, and Genji and Lena were carefully placing origami birds and butterflies in his orbit.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put the tablet down and tried to sleep, humming a little, and his eyes snapped open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man with the kittens was the leader of the mercenary group Outsider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no idea what to do with the information.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Mauga and Baptiste, Take 02</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga and Baptiste get to have a chat in this short chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mauga woke up early and stretched, pulled on some shorts and a shirt, and tied his hair into a sloppy bun.  He didn’t bother with shoes as left his room and gave a big stretch, and he noticed the others gathering in the hall.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sleep OK?” Brigitte asked as she stretched a leg behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s always weird sleeping in a new place,” he said with a wave of his hand.  “I’ll get used to it.”  He watched as Brigitte tried to hop around Mitzi without stepping on her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, barefoot runner?” McCree asked, and Mauga nodded.  McCree was wearing jogging shorts, a t-shirt with a map of Nevada, and red and black running shoes.  He kept watching Hanzo in his tiny little running shorts and baggy undershirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga wondered why Hanzo wore his climbing boots on a run.  “Weird seeing you in sneakers,” Mauga told McCree, who waved him off.  “Hey, Brigitte, you get your cat from Outsider, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, my mom breeds them.  She’s a skogkatt!”  Brigitte managed to unwind herself from Mitzi and lean her hands against the wall.  “Wait.  How did you know we have cats from Outsider?” she asked as she did push ups against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was on the main drive.”  Mauga sunk deep into a lunge.  “You guys were playing with his kittens and got all sad when he took them from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He took little Clarinet,” Reinhardt sighed.  He, too, wore tiny shorts, showing his massive legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you recognized Outsider’s field commander?” Soldier:76 asked as he rotated his shoulders.  He was wearing ancient baggy shorts with the L.A. Lakers logo on them.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s the yellow guy with the rifle, and he talks.  A lot.”  Mauga wondered why the soldier laughed loudly at that, and continued to watch as the hall filled up with everyone preparing for the morning run.  He stared a little as he spotted Zarya.  While dressing in sedated blues and tans in casual clothes, she wore the wildest colors in patterns while running.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yellow guy?” the soldier asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we hit them with paint and glitter bombs to try and tell them apart.”  Mauga accepted a water bottle and followed Baptiste.  “Their shell game is strong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t work, did it?” the soldier asked with a wry grin.  “They change clothes too quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Overwatch tried to take them down?”  Mauga took a quick drink and accepted half of Batiste’s energy bar.  “Thanks, buddy.”  He wondered what John's role in old Overwatch was.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Old Overwatch did.  Outsider was a pain in the ass for ages.”  The soldier took a large bite out of an energy bar.  “But we’ve worked with them before.  They’re reliable and do their jobs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he’s got horses,” McCree pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he has magnificent horses!” Reinhardt exclaimed.  “They are large enough that even I can ride them!  You should come and ride with us, it’s great fun!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren stood behind Reinhardt.  He had braces on his legs and was leaning against the wall, and his shorts reached his knees.  He looked a bit silly in sweatbands on his wrists and head.  “I look forward to visiting again.”  Siebren leaned forward and took a step and Reinhardt almost knocked Mei down to get to his side.  “I’m fine, Rein, just getting my balance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will be careful, liebling?” Reinhardt asked, and Siebren cupped his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baptiste and I are just going up and down the hall a few times.  You know he won’t let anything happen, mijn ridder.  You go enjoy your run.”  He gestured to the others as they filtered out of the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I should have mentioned Mauga,” Baptiste said sheepishly.  “Three, four times a week Siebren and I walk the halls.  I run later, usually with, um, John later.  It’s weird to call him that, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s been quite fantastic, honestly.”  Siebren flexed his left knee and leaned on it a little.  When he wobbled almost everyone left in the hall reached for him, but he stayed upright.  “I can float, remember?” he asked with a grin and lifted from the ground.  “I may never regain full use of my legs, but I will at least be able to walk some.”  He carefully lowered himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren looked up at Reinhardt.  “Baptiste, why don’t you go running with the others?  I think Rein would like to walk with me today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would enjoy that very much, Sternenlicht,” Reinhardt said in an almost reverent tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste and Mauga followed the other runners, and Mauga looked back over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren was leaning on Reinhardt’s arm and taking small, shaking steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They married, too?” he asked, and Baptiste shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dating.  Rein dotes on him, it’s sweet.”  Baptiste tied a bandana around his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He ever gonna be OK?” Mauga asked as they walked down the hall to the kitchen.  “I mean, he’s good now, but, is he <em>OK</em>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste knew what Mauga was asking and he opened the back door.  As they stepped onto the patio they could see Mei and Zarya going down the steps that led to the beach.  “We’re not sure.”  They went down the steps and Mauga paused at the sand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dug his feet in the sand and sighed happily.  “I can get used to running on a beach every morning,” he said as she followed Baptiste down the shore.  They ran clockwise from the steps, passing a dock and a wide open space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that was a stretch to the Junker’s Camp partially under the hover bridge.  There were two brightly colored shipping containers welded together to form an inverted ‘L,’ one long end butted against the wall, and the other long end forming a wind block and shelter.  The sheltered area looked to act like the Junker’s living room.  A campfire was lit and Roadhog was frying some breakfast, there were a few chairs, a table with a radio and a small television, and an ancient wood stove was surrounded by cooking implements.  Roadhog waved as they passed and flipped a pancake in his pan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continued to run for almost five minutes, and once on the east side of the island he could make out the old launch pad and Winston’s lab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most people turn back after the lab, run home.  Run is about forty minutes.  There’s a second marker up ahead.”  Baptiste gestured to the others with his hand.  “Soldier likes to lap the entire island.  I turn after the lab, but I wanna show you something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Baptiste said a good chunk of the runners turned around a pole.  Most of them easily reached up and slapped a leather pad, but Lúcio had to jump.  Zarya struck it for Mei and kept going, and Mei thanked her and turned back to run home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga and Baptiste followed Zarya, Hanzo, McCree, Brigitte, Reinhard, and the soldier others down the path, and after a few more minutes Baptiste nudged Mauga.  He turned into a large bay, and Mauga followed.  The others ran across a shallow bridge, but Baptiste came to a halt.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga almost ogled at the bay.  It was covered by a series of solar panels designed to look like a coral reef, and had been lovingly painted with colorful fish.  While the beach had a few strong gusts of wind, a soft breeze skipped through the covered bay and rang the wind chimes softly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the Pool.  I mean, there’s an indoor pool, but this is THE Pool.”  Baptiste took Mauga’s arm and led him to the side and sat down.  “I had a talk with Lúcio and Genji last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Had to replace me with TWO guys, huh?” Mauga asked smugly, and Baptiste smacked his arm.  “A ninja AND a D.J..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to have a serious conversation!” Baptiste snapped, and Mauga laughed.  “You can be such an ass sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.  I’m just nervous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste was quiet for a moment, then leaned against Mauga.  “You would never have apologized a few years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never faced real consequences for my actions,” Mauga admitted sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their hands found each other, and Mauga felt his chest both glow with happiness and tighten with dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve always known my feelings for you, and that we had a complicated past.  And that what they and I had was kinda complicated.  We’ve always accepted that.”  He leaned heavier into Mauga’s side and Mauga adjusted to wrap his arm around Baptiste and tuck him under his arm.  “And they understand I want to be with you.  They pretty much gave us their blessing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never wanted anything but to be with you,” Mauga said.  His heart almost stopped when Baptiste placed his hand over his heart.  “I’m kinda feeling weird about the entire thing.  Oh, not the you and me part!” he said quickly.  “I’m just ruining your life.  Again.  Somehow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste snorted a laugh.  “You do complicate things.”  They settled into each other.  “You don’t have to join Overwatch.  You can just exist here, we won’t let Talon take you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be there for you when you need me,” Mauga promised.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t yeet the cowboy.”  Baptiste’s voice was flat as he tried to keep from laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am TRYING to have a serious conversation with you,” Mauga snarked, and they both started to laugh.  The stress of the last day melted down and Mauga kissed the top of Baptiste’s head.  “I want to be the me you want me to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to be you, flaws and all.  I just, I want you to be happy.  And safe.”  They watched the water for a while, just existing.  “Everyone’s really impressed with you, you know.  Winston wants to see what your gear is like, Rein wants to see how you solder things, Junkrat wants to talk explosions, they’re all eager to hang out.”  He looked up at Mauga.  “Genji said he knew from the moment you jumped when I said jump that we still mean everything to each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste slotted their fingers together.  “He was just surprised, is all.  It did happen pretty quickly.”  They watched as the other runners came by, the soldier included.  “Huh, wonder what’s going on.  Normally it takes longer to run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meeting at Winston’s, wash up and get moving, Baptiste!” he snapped.  “Mauga’s welcome if he wants to attend.”  He continued running, and Mauga and Baptiste stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonder what’s up?” Magua asked as they jogged out from The Pool’s cool shade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must be with that info Gabriel brought back,” Baptiste mused, and they quickly made their way back to the living quarters.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Reinahrdt calls Siebren "Sternenlicht," German for Starlight</p><p>everyone wears short shorts while running except Mei, who doesnt like her thighs to touch like i do, and Zarya, because more fabric mean more color and wild prints</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Meetings Are the Same No Matter Where You Are</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Magua goes to his first meeting and actually helps out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>id like to thank thegreencarousel for your support and comments - i really appreciate you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mauga couldn’t wait to get his clothes tailored.  The fabricators could make nice clothes, but they still required a personal touch.  He wiggled his toes in his sneakers, satisfied with the fit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roadhog had found two pairs he was never going to wear, both brand new designer shoes he might have stolen while on a crime spree. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga didn’t care; the shoes fit nice and were pretty stylish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The meeting room was filling up quickly as freshly showered agents vied for seats and the sandwiches Echo brought in.  Several pots of both tea and coffee were resting on trivets on the table, and quite a few fruits and pasties were quickly being claimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Angela and Siebren were reaching for the same egg sandwich.  “Oh, look, it’s out of range!” Angela said and held it over her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite Siebren still easily able to reach it, he paused a few moments from touching it.  “I just can’t seem to touch it!  Ah, how very sad,” he said, and made sad noises as he reached for it.  He never managed to touch it, though, since Angela kept moving it.  “Physics have been broken!” he lamented, and Echo handed him one.  “Thank you, my dear.”  It was obviously a running joke between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re close,” Mauga noted and accepted a sandwich from Echo.  “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome!” she chirped and held the platter to Mei.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have your hands in someone’s brain and not get to know them better,” Mei said and picked a vegetarian option.  “Thank you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga found a larger chair and sat down.  He watched as Lena easily draped herself across Winston’s back, and how Lúcio had no problem hopping until Siebren picked him up in his orbit.  That did look fun, but Mauga wondered if his back would like the lack of support.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘John’ and ‘Gabriel’ were off to the side, going over some notes.  Why were their fake names so funny to everyone?  John kept gesturing with his sandwich and Gabriel took it from him and shoved it in Siebren’s orbit.  John finished chewing, and pointed.  “We all know I need calories.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can have your calories when you’re not spitting bacon at me,” Gabriel countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rude,” Roadhog said and he leaned against the wall.  He looked over at Mauga and nodded.  “Shoes fit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, pretty good!” Mauga grinned.  “Just had to glue a sole down and they’re fine.”  They nodded at each other, and watched as Sojourn and Fareeha walked in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha had a sleek black cat around her shoulders, and she set him on the floor.  “Who’s out?” she asked and pulled out her tablet.  “Shrike is on a mission, Junkers are back, McCree heading out, Shimadas, wait, why are the scouting missions pushed back?”  She picked her cat back up when he pawed at her knees, then looked up and spotted Gabriel.  “Oh, you’re back.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a thick tension between them, and Gabriel nodded.  “Heading out soon.  We paused the scouting missions because we got some new intel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha nodded and looked at Mauga.  “Him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With me,” Baptiste said, and she pondered a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m behaving!” Mauga insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha mused then nodded.  “We ready to begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zarya slid into the room and stood behind Mei.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m here.”  She took a spot against the wall and accepted a sandwich.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winston adjusted his glasses and picked up his tablet.  “OK, so, first of all, everyone is aware Mauga is here with Baptiste?  Good, good, I’m glad you’re making him feel welcome.  Secondly, Gabriel has brought several files for us.”  He pressed a button and everyone’s tablets lit up with new information.  “We’re still sifting through the documents, but I, ah, I think we’re making headway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga flicked through a few pages and narrowed his eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you wearing colored contacts?” Mei asked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up, startled.  “Eh?  Oh, yeah, only got a few pairs of clear left.  Ziegler’s got some brewing for me.”  He shoved his sleeves up and continued to read.  “Gotta have an image in Talon.”  He returned to the notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone there is very scary!” Mei said and took a drink of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Winston?” he said and interrupted him.  Mauga stabbed a finger on the tablet.  “I know these reports.  I was at the accounting firm for three months, I read a lot of pages.”  He flicked the screen and scrolled.  “This is,” he said carefully, then nodded.  “These are the numbers for the Zaire firm, the prosthetics division.  It’s a shell company for military equipment.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winston furiously took notes as Mauga connected numbers to locations, naming at least six more companies.  “Your recall is amazing!” Winston said as he added another location to the list.  “And these new companies will give us more information to work with!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More work for my contact to sift through, you mean,” Gabriel sighed as he examined the new data.  “Can your friend do anything with this information?  Some of these businesses could change how our next missions play out.”  He gestured to the floating panels while looking at John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he’s got someone who does computers, and they all hate Talon as much as we do.”  John pulled out a file of a charitable organization.  “Mei, what’s this read?  Are they accurate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei nodded.  “Yes, it’s accurate.  Hubei Province Children’s Charity.”  She skimmed the article.  “There’s the occasional tense issue, but the translation is accurate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that place,” Angela said.  “They lost dozens of children and never found them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re in Nigeria,” Mauga said and snapped his fingers.  “There was a group of kids, the cybernetics division in Nigeria had a gaggle of them.  They had nanite poisoning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nanite poisoning?  How do children get nanite poisoning?” Winston asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people with nanite poisoning worked in or lived near defunct omniums.  Thousands of construction workers died horrible deaths before they could even figure out what was killing them.  Countless more medical care workers were affected, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno.”  Mauga started flipping through the files, looking for something.  “But they all had cybernetic eyes, fingers, toes, I know some of them had organs that were cloned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes sense,” Angela said.  “Nanites go for soft tissue first, and extremities.  But it hasn’t been an issue in several years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because Talon made the cure by examining those kids.  This is only part of the file.”  He flicked the file over to Winston.  “Anything marked ‘crane,’ like the bird, it related to the kids.  Talon made millions off of those kids, and not just nanite poisoning.  They reduced the rejection rate of organ cloning to less than 12% and streamlined nerve hookups.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genji made a soft hum and examined his right arm, well remembering the pain of his first cybernetics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela was doing her own research.  “I know this man, he’s got a certain lack of ethics,” she snapped and added a biography to the notes.  “I am not surprised he would experiment on children.”  The bio was for one Franklin Freeling, a geneticist and cloned tissue expert.  “How did you find out about the children?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are several omniums in China,” Hanzo mused as he pointed out some locations.  “How long ago was this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost five years, but they were cured by then,” Mauga said.  He leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fists.  “I was, well, I was visiting Siebren here about the shields and one of the kids was running up and down the halls.  I thought he was someone’s kid, someone visiting, I dunno.  Then we got the call that one of the lab kids had escaped.  And I’m looking down at this Chinese kid, and I’m all, you break out of the lab?  He said he was running away since he didn’t get his dessert last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others waited for him to continue, and he realized he’d be silent for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga shook his head.  “Sorry, just, I gave him a candy bar and walked him back to the lab.  I knew he was a lab kid and I gave him back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste put a hand on his arm.  “What else could you have done?  Fight your way through a legion of Talon troops with a kid on your back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They weren’t treated badly,” Mauga said.  “They all had cybernetic parts, they were cured of their nanite poisoning, they were having lunch when I dropped the kid off.  Good lunch, too.”  He narrowed his eyes in thought.  “He said he didn’t get dessert because he didn’t do his school work.  And when O’Deoraine and I were assigned a mission together I brought them up, and she was furious.  Said they should have been returned home by then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela mused a moment.  “She never liked children that much, but didn’t wish them harm.”  She flipped through some notes idly.  Moira was a complicated person and Angela was still sorting out her emotions for her, even after all these years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren leaned forward, and with him his orbit shifted.  Lúcio ended up on the table, and he adjusted his posture, pretending it was fine, until John’s sandwich landed in his lap.  “Oh, sorry, sorry,” Siebren said.  “I do remember children.  I was, was being moved, going someplace.  I remember I was dressed in that black outfit.”  He shuddered a little.  “And there were children.  They were walking in the hall and they surrounded me.  They weren’t afraid of me or the guards, and I thought it so strange.  I picked one up, and, well, I’m not sure what happened.  I often thought it was a dream.”  He made hand gestures as he tried to piece his mind together.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I picked one up and tried to get a closer look, and the guards electrocuted me.  I remember getting angry and lashing out at them, the guards, not the children, and the children were scared.”  He made the motions of putting someone down, and realized how many small office supplies were in his orbit.  He continued to talk as he gathered them.  “I wanted to protect the children from the guards, and then I was sedated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lúcio handed John the sandwich when John gestured to it.  “You wouldn’t hurt kids, doc.”  He stood up, and Siebren gestured.  Lúcio leaned back into his orbit and started to float again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were unharmed.  After that I was blinded going through the halls.”  Siebren leaned back and settled into Reinhardt’s chest.  Talon would often turn off the cybernetic relays to his eyes and feed him information through a camera.  He was eternally grateful Angela and a specialist had restored his true sight to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you still going to eat that?” Gabriel asked after the room became heavy with silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, it wasn’t on the floor.”  John took a large bite.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This has actually been a productive meeting, despite getting heavy at the end,” Winston said as he collated his notes.  “We’ve got so much to sort through.  Eh, John, can your person dig into the supply lines here?”  He highlighted a few passages and sent the pages to John’s tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, lemme call her.”  John tucked his sandwich back in Siebren’s orbit and opened an app on his tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel, can your person check on these companies?” Winston asked, and Gabriel shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re taking a big enough risk as it is.  We won’t make contact for a few weeks.”  Gabriel sighed as John took a bite from his sandwich as it rotated near him and tucked it back into orbit.  “Did you even ask if Siebren is OK with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind,” Siebren said absently.  “Well, the apple core is a bit much, I will admit.”  He gestured and Lúcio’s apple core glided to the waste can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winston nodded at his notes.  “I’m going to bring in an Outsider for this.  We could use Ophanim to help collate the data and maybe exchange notes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you guys ever work with Chemical Zed?” Mauga asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha scoffed.  “They’re far too chaotic.  It’s bad enough we work with Outsider.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just mad they stole six train cars on your watch,” Sojourn teased.  “They ever get one over on Talon like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magua snorted a laugh.  “I don’t know HOW they steal train cars.  Train leaves with twenty cars, comes home with fifteen and half the crew missing.  They’ve stolen a satellite while it was in orbit.  You ever had problems like that in old Overwatch with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the time,” Winston sighed.  “They hit and run and we were left blinking in the dust.  Even now when we’re on good terms they don’t share their secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel Eyes is a pretty quiet guy, despite all the chatter,” John said as he finished his sandwich.  “Never let go of a single secret the entire time I knew him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only secrets I ever learned were the ones he let me,” Gabriel added.  “Any other leads do you want me to follow?” he asked Winston.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winston started handing out assignments.  “I’ll update you as we get information decoded and shared, Athena’s still working on some of the encryption.”  He turned and accessed another tablet, bringing up a video chat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An Outsider in a helmet answered the video call.  “Winston, how are you?” he asked with a wave.  “Been a while!  Need help with anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Oasis, hello!” Winston said with a wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Full house, I see?  You need more hands for a mission?”  Oasis had a light and chipper voice, and Mauga realized he knew it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karaoke man!” he suddenly snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hi, guy!” Oasis said.  “Winston, gimme a moment?”  The screen went to a freeze frame, and the hold music was Mauga and the guys from the cafeteria singing Bohemian Rhapsody.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Mauga muttered.  He let Baptiste pat his arm comfortingly.  “They broke into the coms and wouldn’t leave until we sang.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s on brand,” Lúcio noted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a nice voice!” Reinhardt insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they reached the third verse Oasis returned with another figure in a jumpsuit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What and why,” she demanded in a striking voice.  She wore the same uniform as all Outsiders, a two-toned navy jumpsuit and a navy helmet with a golden face plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to borrow Ophanim,” Winston said, but she cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.”  She pressed a button and the screen froze again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sirena is always so direct,” John said.  He pronounced it see-ray-na, the Italian pronunciation.  The screen snapped back on and John looked at her; it looked like she was trying to glare angrily from behind her helmet.  “What?  You are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s right, you’re very blunt,” Oasis pointed out.  “Wouldn’t kill you to be nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why.”  Somehow it was a demand and not a question, and Mauga wondered if she could even ask for anything nicely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"People like nice people," John said with a shit-eating grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do you need Ophanim?" she said, this time in a slow voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got new information that needs collated, and she’s good at her job,” Winston said.  “We’re willing to share the new information.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They could barely hear Sirena talking in her helmet.  “She’s out of state, she’ll call you when she’s near.  She has new information to share.”  The call ended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Oasis was nice enough,” Winston muttered.  “She just doesn’t like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sirena doesn’t like anyone,” John scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sirena doesn’t like anyone who gets her brother shot at.  And you’ve both borrowed him for missions where he got shot at,” Gabriel said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a merc, his job requires getting shot at!” John groaned.  “At least Ophanim is nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, while waiting I’m going to sort through some of this and see what I can get sorted.  There’s code in here I’d like the test, Echo, if you could help?  Genji, could you go get Zenyatta?  It looks like he’s nearing the bridge.  Shrike should be there shortly, she’s an hour or two out, but we may need to send someone for her, she said her car keeps stalling.  Rein, could you show Mauga the workshop, I’m certain he’d like to get his gear repaired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can drive to get her and Master,” Genji offered.  He accepted a file with their locations and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satya, could you check the supplies versus the supplies list?  I’d like to avoid another shrimp overload,” Winston asked and handed her a list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took the page and examined “I’ll see to it.  Mauga wanted a sewing machine, correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know we have at least two in storage but I don’t know their condition or where they are,” Gabriel said.  He accepted another file from Winston.  “I’ll get started in an hour or so.”  He added the page to his tablet and stood up.  “I’m going to do some research first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winston looked at the notes Hanzo sent him.  “Hm, I’m not sure following up on the Chinese omniums would give any results, but I appreciate the research.  Shimada, McCree, can you prepare for a stakeout?  Good, Farehaa, we may need to break into a facility, if the information is correct.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That might be a Genji thing, Puck, no, stop,” she said and pulled her cat’s face from her tablet.  “If that’s the Cairo facility.  If it’s the Oslo one I can break in with a small team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure, yet, we need a bit more information.  Sojourn, can I get your notes and opinions on this Northern Skies facility?  I’m unsure of the link to Talon.”  He sent her notes and she nodded.  “OK, then we’re dismissed!” Winston said brightly.  The meeting room emptied, and Winston looked up.  “Oh, Mauga?” he asked, and the massive man paused.  “This information will go a long way into helping us track Talon’s footprints!” he gushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Mauga said and continued to walk out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, um, I understand if you’re uncomfortable.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This made Mauga pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I first landed from the moon, you see, no one really believed in me.  I gave numbers, names, situations, I was, ah, treated with suspicion.  Because of where I was from, and what my family had done.”  He pulled his glasses off and idly cleaned them.  “I spent years earning people’s trust.  I just, well, I wanted you to know that some of us here do have reservations.  But, they’re trying, they’re trying to welcome you.  Many of us have lost everything, and we remember the loneliness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga paused and looked at his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we DO appreciate you being here.  And not just, eh, not just because it means we’re not facing you in the field.”  Winston put his glasses back on.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a little overwhelming, what with everyone being so nice.  I’m not sure it isn’t an act,” Mauga admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some of us just remember being the new guy, is all.”  Winston collected his tablets and tucked them under one arm, then knuckle walked to the door.  “Let me know if you need anything.  We’re working on getting you furniture, real furniture.  Give Satya a grocery list, she is GREAT at making lists and collating information.  She’ll be helping me once Ophanim arrives.  She has, Ophanim, I mean, a great way of reducing data and raw numbers into patterns, and Satya can sort those far quicker than most A.I.s!  If you want, go ahead and follow the grey line to the hanger, the major workshop is right there.  Rein will treat you nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Mauga said honestly as he lightly punched Winston’s shoulder.  They parted with a nod and Mauga followed the grey line.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Home Invasion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga gets to hang out in the workshop for a while, but is soon left alone to his own devices.  Now he wants a nice day of repairing his gear.</p><p>Too bad he doesn't get it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The workshop was pleasantly noisy.  Reinhardt had already begun assembling something, Brigitte was setting tools out, and Roadhog was clearing a space of boxes.</p><p>“Roadhog, did you see the calipers?” Brigitte asked, and Roadhog pointed.  “Oh, thanks!  Mauga, morning, we left a table open for you.  Tools are on the wall, use what you need.”</p><p>Mauga was wheeling his pod with his gear into the workshop, and he spotted the table.  “Thanks.”  He wheeled the pod into a bay near the table, and wondered why, when a dolly had hoverpads, they still called it wheeling.  Why did they still call it pressing a button when you were touching a touch pad?  The thoughts left his mind as he examined his gear.</p><p>First, he needed to disassemble it.  He selected the proper tools and hauled on some safety glasses and gloves and got to work.  They kept a good conversation going with the others, laughing at jokes and discussing schematics and plants.  </p><p>Overwatch had a near-overwhelming caliber of tools and technology completely new to Mauga, and he considered asking for help with a certain component he had never been able to fully investigate.  For several months the micro-computer in his cooling tank had been a mystery to him, and he was nervous to remove and study it just in case he screwed it up.  He was confident several people could help him figure it out, though.  As he was cracking open the case to remove it an alarm started to ring.</p><p>“All agents report to the mission briefing room, please.  All agents report to the mission briefing room,” Athena said calmly, and they all looked up.</p><p>“You guys go, I’ll clean up,” Mauga offered, and the three took off.  He unplugged and stowed propane tanks and put tools away, and as he was hanging some wrenches some agents darted inside.</p><p>“Need a repair kit,” Brigitte repeated as she opened a locker.  “Help yourself to the mini-fridge!”  She started rooting through the locker.</p><p>Mauga could see it higher up, and he reached above her and handed it to her.</p><p>She thanked him and took off, and almost crashed into Winston as he darted in to grab an electronics kit.  </p><p>“Ophanim is on her way.  We’ve got three attacks, two Talon and a Null Sector to deal with.  Siebren is staying to coordinate, I’m needed in the field.  Ah, we’re stretched so thin!” he lamented as he stashed the electronics kit in his bag.</p><p>“Like too little butter over too much bread,” Mauga said, and Winston nodded.</p><p>Winston would love to talk literature with Mauga later.  “We’ll be back,” he called and returned to the hall.</p><p>Mauga blinked a little as he saw what he thought was a bastion unit dart by, then returned to the workshop.  He admired Roadhog’s repair project, a trio of ancient gas powered motorcycles he was using to repair each other.  One bike was almost a complete loss, but provided enough parts to save one bike and almost save the second one.</p><p>After an hour or so he found some fruit and sandwich materials in the mini-fridge and helped himself, and the intercom dinged.</p><p>“Ophanim requesting permission to land,” a female voice said in a soft southern accent.</p><p>Mauga pressed a different button, hoping it would ring Siebren at the main communications center.  “Siebren?  Hey, doc, you up?”  He pressed the button a few more times but Siebren didn’t answer.  “Athena?” he asked, but she, too, did not answer.  </p><p>“Ophanim requesting permission to land,” the voice said again, this time a little impatiently.  “Please open the gate.”</p><p>“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he said and made his way to the hanger.  Mauga wondered if Ophanim was just as cranky as Sirena was.  He unlatched a rolling door manually, squatted, and hauled.</p><p>The door lifted slowly, gaining speed as the pulleys did their job, and something struck him squarely in the gut.</p><p>Mauga grunted and staggered backwards as the heavy hit him again.</p><p>Talon?</p><p>Mauga caught the next blow, but a dart sunk into his arm and he was rushed by two heavies.  He pulled back, shrugged the first heavy away from him, and ripped the dart from his arm.  Someone was shouting orders, and he knew that wasn’t good.</p><p>One of the heavies swung a fit at him and Magua deflected, but he could feel the electrified gauntlets burn what little arm hair he had.   He let himself be pushed back towards the door, but before he could make a retreat an assassin dropped from the ceiling.</p><p>Mauga cried out as she slashed at his ribs, and he reached up, grabbed her by the head, and slammed her into the wall.  When she still squirmed he slammed her again, then dragged her by the helmet to the workshop.</p><p>He tossed her into the open locker Brigitte had pulled the repair kit from and slammed the door, then picked up a shield shaped item.  Mauga barely got it raised in time to block a fist, and he picked up a wrench from the wall.  He swung it like a mace and heard the heavy’s visor crack, and Mauga swung again.</p><p>The heavy grunted when the wrench connected with his wrist, and he slammed his fist into the shield.  Mauga’s left arm ached from his previous bullet wound, and he knew he couldn’t take many more hits.</p><p>“We need him alive!” the woman’s voice rang out.</p><p>“Can’t say the same for you!” a voice chortled, and the heavy screamed as Junkrat popped out from under the table and hefted a propane torch to his partially exposed face.  Junkrat continued to limp forward and applied heat to various areas as the heavy pulled back.</p><p>Mauga’s head was starting to feel like it was stuffed with cotton.  “Down!” he snapped, and Junkrat turned off the torch and dropped like a marionette with cut strings.  Mauga lashed with the shield sideways, hitting the heavy’s neck, and spotted the other one entering the workshop.</p><p>“Back!” Junkrat called out and Mauga quickly obeyed.  Junkrat flung the propane cylinder and then pulled out a weird handmade gun.  </p><p>Mauga quickly realized the valve had been tampered with and prepared to shield Junkrat.</p><p>The Junker fired, his cobbled-together gun shooting first a nail and then a flare gun flare, and Mauga slapped the shield in front of both of them, protecting them from most of the shrapnel when the tank ripped itself apart.</p><p>“Why’re you home?” Mauga asked once his ears stopped ringing.</p><p>“M’knee’s mad at me, so Dr. Bossy Pants grounded me.”  Junkrat pulled out a small device and lobbed it over the shield.  He giggled as it flashed and sizzled, blinding some of the Talon troopers.</p><p>Mauga could hear the heavy groaning; the propane tank had made a lot of noise and shrapnel.  He peeked over the shield to see the heavy holding his side, and the second one grasping at his throat.</p><p>Mauga brought his wrench down on the first heavy, and he dropped.  He could hear Junkrat singing something about grounding his electronics as he tinkered with something.  “Did you see how many there were?” he asked, and Junkrat sang a quick ‘nope.’  Mauga stepped into the hall to deal with the other heavy but pulled back when he encountered gunfire.</p><p>“This way, other door!” Junkrat said and limped to the gate.  </p><p>Mauga hauled it open and instantly hauled Junkrat back.  The hanger had almost twenty Talon agents inside.  Mauga looked back, and realized the agents had quickly filled the workshop, too.</p><p>“Hands where we can see them!  Drop the device, Junker!” the woman ordered.</p><p>Mauga dropped the shield and held his hands up, and Junkrat put the device on the table near him.  He could hardly raise his left arm, and his wound had reopened.</p><p>“Into the hanger.  Now.”  The woman gestured with her gun, and Mauga and Junkrat slowly entered the hanger.</p><p>They could see a woman in a blue jumpsuit and helmet with a golden face-plate step into rank behind the Talon troopers, and she passed her hand over her face.  Her form rippled and she resembled a Talon trooper, and she took her place next to another soldier.</p><p>The other woman walked behind them and shoved her gun in Mauga’s side.  “Move.  Into the transport.”  She looked over at Junkrat.  “You, too, string bean.  Move it.”</p><p>Junkrat shrugged and started moving, and Mauga followed.  “Hey, lady, can I say one thing?” he asked with a giggle.</p><p>“No.  Keep moving,” she snarled.</p><p>Junkrat dove to the floor and Mauga followed.  “Boom!” he said and snapped the fingers on his right hand.</p><p>The device he left on the table hissed and let out a loud noise, and the woman covered her ears.  Right as the noise died down the item exploded in a flash of light and shrapnel.  </p><p>The woman screamed and covered her face, and Mauga covered Junkrat’s body with his.</p><p>The Outsider ran forward with the other troopers, and Mauga quickly lost track of her.</p><p>The Talon medic knelt by the woman and started to examine her, and Mauga started to plan his next move.</p><p>He didn’t get a chance to, though, as something bit into his thigh.  He reached for the dart, and heard a noise.</p><p>The Outsider agent was holding her rifle tucked closer to her body, and one of the troopers noticed.  </p><p>“Imposter!”  He slammed the butt of his pulse rifle into her face, cracking her face plate and dropping her hologram.  He cracked her in the face plate again, and she was quickly tackled to the ground.</p><p>Mauga scoffed, and wondered why infiltrators never learned better self defense skills.  If you’re going to be sus, learn to defend yourself!</p><p>“WHAT is going on in here?” Siebren de Kuiper snarled as he floated into the hanger.  He wasn’t wearing any gear, and Mauga swore to himself.  Was he trying to get himself killed?  Siebren lifted his hand and slammed several troopers against the wall.  </p><p>“Assassin!” Mauga tried to shout, but could only slur his words.</p><p>The assassin dropped from the ceiling and wrapped her legs around Siebren’s neck and massive shoulders.  She stabbed him in the neck with a syringe as he reached up for her, then pressed her thumbs against his temples.</p><p>Siebren froze for a moment then started to struggle again, but froze once her helmet started to play several phrases in Dutch.  He struggled to remove her, but someone else hit him with a cattle prod.  The Dutch ranting continued, and Siebren’s pupils constricted.  He sunk to the ground and was quickly stabbed with another cattle prod.</p><p>“OK,” the woman said as she let the medic haul her up, “everyone into the transport.  NOW.”</p><p>Mauga had to be hauled to his feet and was partially dragged to the transport.</p><p>Junkrat struggled, but the troopers managed to get a grip on him and haul him along.</p><p>Ophanim struggled, too, but a trooper slammed his fist into her gut and she dropped.  </p><p>“Ah, she’s puking,” the trooper sighed and twisted her helmet until he got it off.  He gave it a few shakes to get the mess out.</p><p>Ophanim spat bile and gasped for air, and the other trooper gripped her wrists and hauled up.  She had pale skin and auburn hair braided and twined around her head and a scattering of freckles, and was dragged to the transport.</p><p>Mauga reached for her but his sight grew dim, then he was aware of hitting the floor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Airborn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga comes to on a transport, locked down.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mauga shook his head and tried to focus.  His feet were restrained in cuffs.  His arms behind his back.  Someone gave him a slap and he tried to focus his eyes.  “What?” he asked, and felt another slap.  One he got hit with some water he woke up a little.</p><p>“Who’s the girl?” someone was asking, and Magua blinked.</p><p>“I never saw her before in my life,” he admitted.  He looked around, trying to take everything in.</p><p>The squad leader, a commander in a uniform he didn’t recognize, had a small group of men with her.  Ophanim was sitting next to him, and he could see Siebren was laying down, lashed to the seats folded into their cot configuration.  He didn’t see the Junker.</p><p>Mauga felt a stab of pride that she had so few goons left and neither of her heavies or assassins.  He turned his head carefully; he still felt like his head was stuffed with fluff and dampness.  </p><p>He watched as one of the troopers tried to talk to Ophanim.  At least, due to her Outsider uniform he assumed she was Ophanim.</p><p>She remained quiet as the trooper addressed her, and finally, he pointed at her ears.   “Cybernetic eyes, but they’re offline.  Henderson really walloped her good and blew out her left eye.  And she’s deaf, those look like hearing aids.  Either she’s pretty good at faking it or they got knocked offline when we put her through the security field.”</p><p>Mauga thought that must be terrifying for her, deaf and blind and captured by Talon.  The security field was designed to short circuit tracking devices and some cybernetics, and her hearing aids must have been victim to that.  </p><p>“Where’s Rat?” he slurred out, and shook his head.  He realized they were already in the air.  How long was he blacked out for?</p><p>“Tossed him out, don’t need a Junker,” the man with Ophanim’s helmet said.  He tucked the helmet in the overhead bin above her seat.</p><p>Mauga looked over to get a better look at Siebren.</p><p>He had been stripped to his boxers and was in a state of shock, struggling for air with shallow, erratic gasps.  He reached one hand up and everyone jumped back.</p><p>“Keep the asset sedated,” the captain snapped as she rubbed at her face.  She had dozens of scratches and chemical burns on the left side of her face, and a bandage around her neck.  </p><p>“It’s an automatic response, Captain.  It’s not responding to outside stimuli,” a medic said.  “I think it’s safe.”</p><p>The woman shoved him aside, grabbed a syringe, and sunk it into Siebren’s thigh.</p><p>Siebren did not react.</p><p>The medic protested and hauled it out.  “He can’t take much more, Captain Adams!  He’s already having breathing difficulties as it is!” </p><p>“It.  It is NOT a ‘he.’  If IT blinks I want IT knocked the fuck out.  I’ve seen that thing in action, it’s a monster.”  Captain Adams accepted a cooling pad from the medic, but her eyes never left Siebren’s prone form.  “How much more can we sedate it?”</p><p>“The asset is already weak, ma’am,” the medic continued to insist.  He checked Siebren’s pulse.  “It’s pulse is getting erratic.”</p><p>“He ain’t a thing,” Mauga muttered, and the guard nearest him smacked his head with the butt of his rifle.  “He isn’t a thing!” Mauga managed to spit out.</p><p>“Make sure he’s restrained,” Captain Adams snapped.  “He’s dangerous, too.  And the Outsider.  Do we have any information on her?”  She leaned over and took Ophanim’s chin, and yelped when the Outsider suddenly twisted her head and sunk her teeth into her fingers.  The captain twisted and yanked and cracked her fist against the Ophanim’s head, and finally got her hand free.  “Dumb bitch,” she hissed, and slapped Ophanim.  “Sedate her, too.”</p><p>The Talon trooper who took her helmet double checked that Mauga and Ophanim were restrained, and nodded.  “All three prisoners are secure.”</p><p>“Good t’hear,” Ophanim said, and the hatch popped open.</p><p>Two troopers nearby we instantly sucked out, and the transport tilted sharply.  Two more troopers were knocked out, and the others slid towards the door.  The medics were spared only because they were able to grip Siebren’s restraints.</p><p>Captain Adams clung to a seat and bangs on a button on the wall.  “Chavez, what’s going on in there?” she shouted, but no one in the cabin could hear her.  She pounded the button again and heard a beep.</p><p>“We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.  If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”  The message repeated in Spanish, and Mauga recognized the voice.</p><p>“Ship’s haunted,” Ophanim said with a smirk, and the transport suddenly dove.</p><p>It rose sharply, tilting out two more troopers and loose gear.  The two medics were spared only because they were able to grip Siebren’s restraints.  </p><p>“Should have had their seat belts on,” the mystery voice said, and the lights suddenly dimmed as the bay door shut.</p><p>A trooper made a damp sound, and when the lights came on he was bleeding heavily from the neck.  A weird, eerie giggle and a clattering noise filled the air.</p><p>“That wasn't me, believe it or not,” the voice admitted.</p><p>“Innocent here,” Ophanim responded.</p><p>Two small explosions went off on the backs of two troopers, and a shot pierced a third’s neck, first with a nail then with a flare.  “G’day!”  Junkrat grinned and pressed a button.  A handful of explosions went off and he wailed on the nearest medic with a wrench.  “Drop ME out of a moving vehicle, will ya?” he snapped and Captain Adams pulled out her handgun.  “Like you’re the first to try!”</p><p>A nail pierced her wrist and she screamed, and the ship suddenly nosedived.</p><p>Junkrat scrambled to Mauga and wedged himself between Mauga and the wall.  “Secure!” he shouted, and the ship leveled off, banked, and headed upwards again.  </p><p>Captain Adams shrieked as the bay doors opened and she gripped onto a seat.  As she looked over she could see Ophanim’s hands moving behind her back, typing at something.  “You!  You’re doing this!” she snarled and glared at Ophanim.  The captain let go and struck Ophanim in the side of her head, but before she could strike the Outsider again she gripped her own neck.</p><p>Junkrat’s nail gun had pierced her artery, and she struggled to stay upright.  He flung his wrench into her head and she fell, and her inert form slid out the bay doors.  After a few moments the doors shut and the transport leveled out again.  </p><p>“Let’s get you free!” Junkrat said and ran his fingers over the manacles.  </p><p>“Can you do that when you’re not sitting on me?” Mauga asked crankily.</p><p>Junkrat had straddled Mauga’s left thigh to reach behind him.  “Nope.  I’m noodlely and all, but this is the easiest way to reach.”  He pulled out some tools and plugged them into the locks, then hummed a little.  “This is never as quick as in the movies, mate.”  It took most of a minute but the manacles finally popped open and Mauga’s arms were free.  The leg manacles took less time since Junkrat knew what he was doing.  “Now for the lady.”</p><p>He plugged the tool into her manacles and adjusted it, then she, too, was free. </p><p>Ophanim sat patiently, hands in her lap.</p><p>“She’s blind, can’t hear, not without her hearing aids,” Mauga offered as he checked on Siebren.  He sat heavily on the floor, and he felt very tired.  “Helmet went out the doors with the goons.”  He adjusted his posture and felt Siebren’s neck to check his pulse.</p><p>The older man was in a catatonic state from what he could tell.  What had caused that?  Was it the shocks?  The ranting in Dutch?  Mauga noticed Siebren had scars around his wrists, ankles, and thighs, and he assumed they came from his manacles and restraints.  The inside of Siebren’s left wrist was massively scarred with what looked like tooth and fingernail markings.  </p><p>“No wonder you always wear long sleeves,” Mauga muttered.  </p><p>Several cybernetic relays traced his major arteries, but the LEDs sunk under his skin were flickering dully.  Didn’t he have LEDs on his temples?</p><p>Mauga brushed his fingertips over Siebren’s temples and could feel him shudder, but he didn’t feel anything under the surface.  “I don’t know what to do.  He’s weak, barely breathing.”  He looked over to see Junkrat moving Ophanim’s hands.  “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Moment,” he said and continued moving her hands.  “Sign language.”  It obviously wasn’t going well.  </p><p>“I can make a wired connection,” she said in her flat voice.  “Is that what you’re asking?”</p><p>Junkrat lifted her hand up and down.  “We don’t speak the same sign, but she got the idea.  Let’s get her to the cockpit.”  Junkrat held his elbow out to her and gave her hand a tug, and Ophanim let her lead him to the cockpit.  </p><p>“Can I get that jimmy?” she asked and held her hand out.  “I’m gonna pop the door, big guy, you get the pilots.  Where’s the control panel?”  She let Junkrat put her hands on the control panel to the door.</p><p>Junkrat carefully set the tool he used to get their manacles off into her palm, and she curled her fingers around it.</p><p>“OK, I know how to do this.”  She entered a code and plugged the jimmy into a slot.  “Ready.”</p><p>The door slid open and Mauga quickly grabbed the co-pilot and slammed him against the wall, then wrapped his hands around the pilot’s neck.</p><p>Junkrat had Ophanim by the hand and he guided her to the copilot seat, then flopped into the pilot seat.  He quickly leveled the transport and nodded.</p><p>Mauga kept a death grip on the necks of the pilot and copilot.  “Hey, open the back door?” he asked, and Junkrat nodded.</p><p>He muttered as he examined the controls, then nodded.  “Opening the doors,” he said and pressed a button that flashed purple.</p><p>While Mauga hauled the pilots away, Ophanim started rummaging through her pockets.  She pulled out some hard candies, a lighter, some keys, a button, and finally, a small box.  She popped it open and gave a small sound of delight.  "I did pack it!" she said as she hooked the device over her ear and sighed.</p><p>“Hearing aid?” Junkrat asked, and she nodded.  “Good t’have backups, yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah, it was turned off, so it wasn’t fried.”  She adjusted it and winced a little, unhappy with the fit.  It was a few years old, but still worked.</p><p>Mauga hauled the pilots to the bay and lobbed them at the doors.  “Ready!” he shouted and grabbed a harness.  He watched as they fell, then the doors shut.</p><p>Junkrat, Siebren, Mauga and Ophanim were the only people left on the transport.</p><p>Mauga stomped back to the cockpit, pausing only to look at Siebren.  </p><p>Siebren was hardly breathing, but Mauga couldn’t help him.  </p><p>Mauga fussed a little though, making sure his blanket was smooth and his head was on the pillow.   “OK, where are we?” he asked as he entered the cockpit.  His head was light and he wobbled a little..</p><p>Junkrat was trying to make sense of the map.  “It says we are...” he mused.  “Right of Spain.  Stole some paintings here once.  Didn’t like’em, but Roadie liked one.  Portugal, we’re rounding Portugal.”</p><p>“France,” Ophanim said.  “We’re over France and we’re getting too much attention.  The news is screaming because some people got a little drop happy with the bodies.”</p><p>“Better than having them here,” Junkrat pointed out.  “How do we get back to the Rock?”</p><p>“We don’t,” Ophanim said firmly.</p><p>“We have to get back to the Rock!” Mauga insisted.  “The doc needs help.”</p><p>“Well, Talon and the French air force is between us and The Rock.”  Ophanim kept her hands in her lap.  “They can’t find us now since the Tart Squad runs silent.”</p><p>Mauga snorted a laugh.  The Asset Reclamation Department had long been called the Tart Squad - the Talon Asset Reclamation Team.  “That was THE most inept Tart Squad I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>Junkrat shook his head.  “Couldn’t even toss a bloke out a plane right.”</p><p>“How did you survive that?” Ophanim asked.</p><p>“Experience,” Junkrat said flatly.  “How’d you hack the doors?  I saw your hands moving.  You got a wireless connection?”</p><p>She shoved her hair behind her ear.  “Well, I did until someone hit me and a connection came loose.  But I learned from the best.”</p><p>“Sombra?” Mauga asked.  “I love that little gremlin.”</p><p>The communications feed blinked to life.  “You should, I don’t give you any other choice.  Opie and I have worked together a long time.”</p><p>“She can be a bit feisty,” Ophanim said.  “But I wouldn’t be here without her.”</p><p>“You’re hidden, but you need to find a safe place to land.  I’m backing out, you guys stay safe.”</p><p>“Thanks, Shades,’ Mauga said with affection in his voice.  </p><p>The communicator faded from purple to red.</p><p>“But back to the main topic.  We can’t go back to the Rock.  We can’t go over land, the locals would shoot us down without the proper codes.  We’re too low on fuel to go around Spain and Portugal.  But we can go north.”</p><p>“What’s north? Switzerland?” Junkrat asked.</p><p>“How did you complete a world wide crime spree?” Mauga demanded.</p><p>“Roadie drove.  Hey, you don’t look so good, maybe sit down?” Junkrat offered.  “We’ll fly, she can tell me where to go.”</p><p>“Wales,” she said.”</p><p>“SO,” Junkrat said, “leeeeeft?”</p><p>Mauga pressed a few buttons and stabbed his finger at the map.  “There.  That’s Wales.”</p><p>“That’s England,” Junkrat argued.</p><p>“Just fly,” Mauga groaned, then he gripped his side.  The assassin’s wounds from the hanger weren’t deep, but they were tender and still bleeding.  “I’m going to check on Siebren.”  He was rapidly running out of steam and his vision blurred more so than usual as he made his way out of the cockpit.</p><p>
  <span>Siebren was struggling to breathe and his left hand kept lifting into the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga didn’t know what else to do so he gripped the older man’s hand gently.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren’s fingers slid into his, and his breathing steadied some.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments Mauga realized Siebren’s hand was flexing.  “Guys,” he called out, trying not to yell too loudly.  “I think he’s awake, or at least aware.”  He felt a weak squeeze, and he squeezed back.  “We’re gonna help you, OK?” he said, and tried to remember every way he ever saw Baptiste comfort someone.  He held Siebren’s hand firmly as he patted his damp face.  “He doesn’t feel right, he’s all clammy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twenty minutes,” Ophanim said, and Mauga nodded.  He could feel the freefall from the transport diving lower, and then he was aware the ship’s speed had changed.  Junkrat must have found the boosters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junkrat stumped out to stand next to him, and Mauga noted how red and swollen his left knee was.  Junkrat worked as if he weren’t in pain, though, and rooted through the medical tools.  “Here we go!  Gotta get your blood sugar, doc, gonna pinch just a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga couldn’t feel any jump or squeeze when Junkrat pricked Siebren’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sugar’s crazy low, just over 60.”  Junkrat didn’t know exactly what it meant, just that it wasn’t good.  “Lemme check the minibar.”  He rooted through a cooler and some lockers, then shook his head.  “Nothing!  I don’t got any candy, no tea, nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s only a few more minutes,” Ophanim said.  “I have some butterscotch disks,” she offered.  “I don’t know if it will help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he can eat hard candy right now,” Junkrate said musingly.  “Man, Talon got you messed up, doc.”  He watched as Siebren started to shake a little.  “No worries, no worries, Uncle Ratty and Mauga are here.”  His voice was surprisingly gentle.  “Ain’t no one here to harm ya.  Can you play some music?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have the type of radio,” Ophanim said.  “Course correction, fifteen minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let me tell you an adventure, then.”  Junkrat sat down next to Mauga.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seriously letting a blind woman pilot a supersonic jet?” Mauga demanded, and Junkrat stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m patched in, I know what I’m doing,” Ophanim snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re right, I should still be in the pilot’s seat.  I’ll tell it over the intercom.”  Junkrat struggled to his feet and Mauga stood and hauled him up.  “Thanks.”  He limped to the pilot’s seat again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he got the communications open he quickly launched into a crazy story about scuba diving with a black alligator thirty feet long, and Mauga didn’t know if he believed him or not.  “And that’s when I remembered I had a steak in m’pocket, the entire time” he said, and Mauga dabbed Siebren’s face dry again.  “I feed ol’ Black Scale and he just stared at me.  That’s when I realized he took m’hand with the steak!”  He wiggled his cybernetic fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you already had the cybernetic hand when you started, remember?  You were glad it was waterproof?” Mauga said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never said it were me flesh and blood he took now, did I?” Junkrat pointed out.  “You really think I’m dumb enough to feed a croc with m’good hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get ready to land.”  Ophanim banked carefully, and the ship lowered.  “Losing hovers!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I might have sabotaged a few things,” Junkrat said.  “Forgot about that.  Buckle up, big guy, we’re going down!”  The ship dropped for a few seconds too long.  They hit sharply, and Magua fell to his butt.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga wasn’t aware he blacked out until he felt Junkrat shake him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re in bad shape, mate,” Mauga heard Junkrat say as everything caught up to him and he faded to black again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Finally Some Relief</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga and Baptiste spend some quality time together, then have some dinner.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He was in a new bed with a familiar warmth.  Sunlight filtered through creamy curtains, and as Mauga moved his arms experimentally he heard the sound of home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste was sleeping next to him, pressed against his left side as usual.  He sighed when Mauga stirred and rolled over, pressing his chest against Mauga.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so good to feel the Baptiste’s warmth on his side.  He lay there for several minutes, just feeling that familiar comfort.  Mauga raised his arm with a his, and Baptiste snuggled against his chest automatically.  Mauga easily cradled Baptiste like he used to, holding him firmly.  He drew his hand up and down Baptistes’ back, and Baptiste gave a contented sound and fell into a deeper sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to look at Baptiste, but his vision was blurry.  He supposed Baptiste took his contacts out; he was always looking out for him.  Mauga could feel bandages on his chest and wondered just how bruised he was.  As he tried to sit up his ribs ached, and he couldn’t help but groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste blinked himself awake.  “Mauga?  Hey, how are you?” he asked and sat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga rotated his shoulders and took a deep breath.  He instantly wished he didn’t.  “Just peachy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got some cracked ribs, major lacerations, recovering from some weird narcotic, you’re a mess,” Baptiste scolded.  “Even your bullet hole reopened.”  He turned on the light and patted Mauga down.  “Can you walk?  You need to shower, then eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga gave a sniff.  He smelled like three types of sweat.  “That feels so long ago,” Mauga muttered as he sat up.  He pointed to his shoulder.  “This thing, I mean.”  His days patrolling the office felt like weeks had passed, not two days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, life moves fast.  C’mon.  Into the shower.”  Baptiste led him down the hall to a large bathroom.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga could hear a guitar and he was certain he smelled something cooking.  “Where are we?”  Mauga was surprised at the sunshine in the windows just how well he fit in the shower.  The bathroom was a soft yellow and decorated with images of citrus and melons.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Outsider headquarters, in Wales.  This is Angel Eyes’ house.  One of his friends is you sized, that’s the guest room he uses when he’s here.  Post said you can help yourself to everything except his cosplay clothes, he’s got enough clothes at home.”  Baptiste let Mauga lean on him to get in the shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting his leg over the edge of the tub made Mauga’s breath catch in his lungs.  “How’s Sieb- Siebren?” Mauga asked and spotted the shower chair.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shower chairs were one of his favorite inventions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let Baptiste help him out of his sleep pants and top, and sunk carefully into the shower chair.  It didn’t protest under him like some did, and he would fit comfortably under the stream of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste turned the water on and tested the heat.  “He’s still not responsive.  From what Junkrat said it sounded like they were playing a message the Hauge used to play while punishing him.  That and the drugs and electrocution sent him into a catatonic state.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga leaned back and let Baptiste run the showerhead over his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to check your scalp.  You want a shampoo?” Baptiste asked.  “Looks like they’ve got some Black hair products.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naw, I shampooed recently.”  Mauga’s thick hair required similar care to Baptiste’s, and he loved it when Baptiste washed his hair.  Both of them knew he didn’t trust many hair products, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste checked the wound on Mauga’s scalp, then ran his fingers along Mauga’s hairline.  “Junkrat said you were pretty good in the fight.”  He rubbed Mauga’s hairline and Mauga gave a soft sigh.  “It takes a lot to impress him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what?  That scrawny bastard scares me.  He took a blow torch to a man.  Is he here?” he asked with a wave of his hand, accidentally splattering water on Baptiste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Trent won’t let him in the house, he went back to the Rock.”  He sighed as Mauga chuckled and splashed him with some more water.  “You’re making a mess!  Hang on.”  Baptiste hauled his shirt off, and while his arms were over his head and his shirt covering his face, Mauga gripped his breasts.  Baptiste sputtered in surprise and hauled the shirt from his arms.  “Ass,” he scolded gently.  “Stop that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magua gave a squeeze and a honking noise, and Baptiste laughed.  “What?  They’re right here!” he said and fondled Baptiste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste gently swatted Mauga’s hands away with his shirt, then dropped it to the floor.  “That’s grounds for divorce in six countries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we'd have to be married first,” Mauga scoffed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it, we’re getting married just so I can divorce you,” Baptiste sassed, and they both paused.  “I mean, not now, but, maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.”  Mauga reached up and cupped Baptiste’s face and pulled their foreheads together.  “When we’re ready for it.  We got some work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been meaning to ask, have you been talking to anyone?  Like a therapist?” Baptiste asked carefully and leaned into the touch.  “You’ve been different.  A bit less feral.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I, I lost you.  I didn’t know what to do.  Sombra set me up with a private line to someone.”  They rested quietly for a moment.  “Are you serious?  About marriage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste nodded.  “When we’re ready, I’d like to talk about that.”  He gripped Mauga’s face and kissed him deeply.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga winced as he raised his arms to hold Baptiste.  He looked down at his bruised and stitched up chest and put his arms down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me help.”  Baptiste carefully started to scrub Mauga’s arms.  “After this you’re eating.  A lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No argument there!” Mauga said, and Baptiste nodded.  Mauga let Baptiste wash him and check the healing of his wounds, tilting here and there and letting Baptiste touch him.  He cupped Baptiste’s cheek with one hand and brought their foreheads together again, starved for contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste slid his pants and boxers off, then climbed onto Mauga’s lap.  He slid forward and nestled his cock next to Mauga’s, and Mauga wrapped his arm around his waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They rocked comfortably together, hands wrapped around each other as their mouths explored the other’s lips, neck and collarbones.  They ground together and moaned into each others’ mouths and sought comfort in their familiar touch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga held him and fingerer Baptiste’s ass a little, but mainly kept him in place in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste gripped their cocks, already leaking and throbbing, and squeezed.  He thumbed Mauga’s slit and flexed his fingers, and Mauga’s breath caught in his ribs.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga saw stars as he came, and he felt Baptiste shudder as he soon followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was short, but intense and exactly what they needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kissed gently and slowly as they wound down, and Mauga got his breathing under control.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste leaned against Mauga’s chest, ear over his breast, and Mauga ran his hands along Baptiste’s lower back, unable to raise his arms too high at the moment.  “You OK?  Your heart’s a little fast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just, you know, got busted ribs.”  Mauga kissed Baptiste again.  “I need my contacta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Several minutes later Mauga was putting a little too much weight on Baptiste as they walked down a hallway to the dining room.  They could hear someone singing in Italian and they could smell roasted meats and pasta sauce.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga’s stomach made an audible noise as they rounded the corner and entered an open kitchen.  Two older men, possibly in their late fifties, were chatting quietly while a third worked at the stove.  Mauga instantly recognised the singer’s voice as Angel Eyes, field leader of Outsider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes was standing at a stove, still wearing his navy jumpsuit, but without the helmet, neck guard and boots.  He was wearing house shoes and sanitation gloves instead, and his undercut, dark brown shot through with grey, was clipped away from his face with a few orange cat barrets.  Mauga noticed his green eyeliner, and was surprised to see he was at least in his fifties.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A Black man sat at the table, dressed in a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a tweed vest and a bowtie.  His beard and hair were sharply kept, several bracelets and rings littered his arms and fingers, and he wore rectangular glasses.  He looked very serious and reminded Mauga of a college professor.  He was sipping coffee and reading a tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last man was wearing a soft blue blouse and chinos, and he was making a list.  His skin was pale and his hair and eyes very dark, and he had several earrings in each ear.  While Angel Eyes looks somewhat sloppy and the Black man looked well put together, the third man looked softer and effortlessly fashionable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buongiorno, buongiorno, entra!  Sit down!” Angel Eyes said brightly.  “Food is ready, sit down!”  Angel Eyes gestured to some chairs, and Baptiste helped Mauga sit in the larger one.  They had to shoo a white cat and an orange cat from the chair, and the pair sulked before finding a new chair to sleep in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HI, Angel Eyes.  I know you said not to use the costume stuff, but we had problems getting Mauga into a shirt,” Baptiste said quickly.  “His ribs are still healing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga was wearing soft pants with a bit too much leg room and a summer kimono tied loosely around his waist.  He was certain it was an anime costume, but he had never been into anime beyond Dragon Ball, Sailor Moon, and Puella Magi Madoka Magica.  Magical girls were hard core and he loved them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Post won’t mind, he’s a sweetheart,” the paler man said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, these are my husbands, Mr. Bolton and Trent.”  Angel Eyes gestured to the Black man then the pale man.  “Sir, Trent, this is Mauga.  You know Baptiste.  Here, you need protein and carbs.  Let’s start you out with some pasta e fagioli and some chicken parm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you,” Mauga said and shook hands with them.  Mr. Bolton had a firm handshake and Trent only offered his fingers.  “You live with your ex?” Mauga asked, and Baptiste nudged his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we’re all married.”  Mr. Bolton had a non-nonsense voice.  “We’re polyamorous.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got two hands,” Angel Eyes said cheerfully and basted something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean anything,” Mauga said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re fine, Mauga,” Mr. Bolton said.  He truly was a ‘uses his last name with his friends’ type of soul.  “Polyamory isn’t common everywhere.”  Mr. Bolton pushed a plate closer to Mauga.  “Here, take some antipasti.  I want you to try Marcus’ stuffed mushrooms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really should eat,” Baptiste said as Angel Eyes put plates in front of them.  “You were under a biotic field for most of an hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga quickly accepted some appetizers and dug in.  The headache he didn’t know he had started to fade the more he ate, and Angel Eyes kept putting food on his plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wear your jumpsuit at home?” Mauga asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trent rolled his eyes.  “Hard to get him out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s warm!” Angel Eyes insisted and stirred another pot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve come to an agreement about the jumpsuit.”  Mr. Bolton took some pesto and spread it on a cracker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Markie, who needs a sewing machine?” Trent asked, and Mauga tried not to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The leader of Outsider and one of the most annoying people Talon ever faced is named Markie?” Magua asked, and Baptiste nudged him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only Trent gets to call me Markie,” Angel Eyes noted.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Lu Lu,” Trent added without looking up from his list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes nodded in agreement.  “And Lu Lu.  Does anyone else get to call me that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste accepted a plate from him.  “Angie calls you Markie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Bolton took a drink of coffee.  “Oh, and Reece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reece doesn’t call me Markie,” Angel Eyes scoffed.  “He calls me Marcklein.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which means ‘Little Markie’ in German,” Mr. Bolton pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dwayne calls you Lil’ Markie all the time,” Trent pointed out.  “Sewing machine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right, Jack was asking about a sewing machine so I put it on the list.”  Angel Eyes poured some sauce into a shallow dish and gave it a taste.  “OK, this is good.  I’m sending you home with some sauce, Jack says he can make good sauce but he’s not Italian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need one to tailor my clothes,” Mauga admitted and gave a tug on the yukata.  “Nothing ever fits.  This fits nice, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Japanese clothing is really versatile.”  Trent nodded and made a few notes.  “Well, I’ve got one in storage I don’t use since we got the new one.  It’s a nice one, but I don’t need that many options.  Oh, thank you, Markie.”  Trent put his list aside to accept a plate of food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga never thought he would enjoy such simple conversations as sewing machine specs and grocery lists.  It wasn’t the loud chaos that was Overwatch and it wasn’t the constant buzz of the Talon cafeteria.  Instead it reminded him of nights in with the squad when they were grounded to their rooms for various crimes against authority.  He had two helpings of chicken parmesan and beer basted steak, and as he ate a fourth, maybe fifth, helping of pasta he felt himself slowing down.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes brought out homemade raviolis.  “You look almost done,’ he said as he tried to scoop some more pasta onto his plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga realized he was done and held his hand over his plate.  Two more bites and he’d pop!  “Hey, can I see Siebren?  I’d like to check on him,” Mauga asked, and Baptiste nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, let me get him some broth,” Angel Eyes said quickly, and he ladled some broth into a cup.  He whisked some powder into it, maybe corn starch, and thickened it.  “If he’s awake he’s going to need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trent meanwhile stood and assembled two more plates, one much larger than the other.  “Here, I’m worried about Reinhardt.  He hasn’t been eating much.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste and Mauga took the plates and the broth and made their way down the hall.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. No riddles in the dark, only conversations.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga has a conversation and some more to think about.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Siebren was very still as he lay on the bed, an I.V. of fluids and a small monitoring device taped to his left arm.  Lúcio had let them in the room quietly, then eagerly took a plate.  He had been playing guitar and taking musical notes as he composed something.</p><p>“Oh, this smells good!  He’s a really good cook, I usually don’t like Italian stuff!” Lúcio said as he sniffed the dishes.  “Rein, dinner.”  Lúcio nudged Reinhardt, who looked up.</p><p>Reinhardt looked very tired as he held Siebren’s still hand.  “Ah, thank you.”  He put the tray on the table and returned to holding Siebren’s hand.</p><p>“You gotta eat, big guy,” Lúcio said softly.  “Looks like Markie made broth, too.  Here, help him up.”</p><p>Mauga made a note that Lúcio called Angel Eyes ‘Markie.’ </p><p>Reinhardt gently lifted Siebren and braced him against his arm and chest, then took the cup from Lúcio.  He carefully put it to Siebren’s lips and Siebren automatically drank the thickened broth.</p><p>“How is he?” Mauga asked quietly.  He watched as Baptiste quickly went over his vitals.  Mauga didn’t like seeing Siebren hooked up to monitors and tubes; it was too much like his Talon days between missions.</p><p>“Well, he’s stabilized,” Baptiste noted.  He watched as Siebren drank, eyes partially open and barely able to keep his head up.  “We finally got a reading on the sedatives they gave him.  They should have worn off by now, but the trauma from the Hague and Talon are delaying his recovery.”</p><p>“Ophanim finally cracked the encryption on the files Gabriel got,” Lúcio said and took a bite of a ravioli.  “She also found out the blitz attack was a crime of opportunity, kinda.  They were hoping to grab you two and the doc in one blow.  They made a few emergencies to draw the others out, and you were at home.”</p><p>“So they sent the current Asset Recovery Team,” Baptiste mused.  “It almost worked.”</p><p>“I’d have blown a lot more of them up if Junkrat and Siebren hadn’t been there,” Mauga said with a flap of his hand.  Everyone knew it was an exaggeration.  “But I didn’t want to get them hurt.”</p><p>“Kind of you,” Siebren said quietly.</p><p>“Oh, you’re awake, Sternenlicht!” Reinhardt gushed.  “I was so worried!”  He put the broth down and gently cradled Siebren’s face.</p><p>“Just tired.”  Siebren shifted a little and Reinhardt helped him sit up properly.  “May I,” he said, then made drinking motions.  “May I, the soup.”  He was tired and unable to form full sentences.</p><p>Reinhardt eagerly helped him drink, and he wrapped Siebren’s hands with his own.</p><p>“I’m a little wiped myself,” Mauga admitted.  “Glad you’re OK, Siebren.”</p><p>Siebren tried to say something, but ended up just nodding instead.</p><p>“C’mon, Mauga, let’s get you back to bed.”  Baptiste led Mauga back down the hall to the other guest room.  “You look tired.”  He helped Mauga out of the yukata and helped him lay down. </p><p>“Hey, buddy?” Mauga asked as Baptiste found him a night mask.  “Why didn’t you ever give me a nickname?”  He thought of Reinhardt calling Siebren ‘starlight’ in German, of Trent calling Angel Eyes ‘Markie’, and John and Gabriels’ ‘gorgeous,’ and ‘mi alma.’</p><p>Baptiste slid into bed next to him and they easily settled next to each other.  “Because, there’s nothing I can call you BUT Mauga,” Baptiste said after a moment.  “Any name, any title, anything else I call you, it wouldn’t do you justice.  It would be like trying to tame a hurricane.  You’re you, and I can never change you, and that’s why I love you.”  </p><p>Their foreheads met, and they lay quietly like that for a while.</p><p>“I love you, too, buddy.”  </p><p>Mauga grinned softly when Baptiste kissed him, pulled his night mask down, and faded into a soft, warm sleep.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>When Mauga woke up again it was full dark.  </p><p>Baptiste was laying near him, snoring softly.</p><p>Mauga had a vague recollection of Baptiste getting up and another one of him coming back; he must have just been staying until Mauga went to sleep to keep him company.</p><p>Mauga stroked Baptiste’s temple, then carefully stood up.  He made his way to the bathroom then the kitchen, and squinted so he could read the note on the fridge.  He selected a large platter of pork chops and penne with his name on it, warmed it up on the heating tray, and made his way to the living room.  He thought he heard a buzzing, but it stopped.</p><p>A good sized couch rested there with two chairs and a large television.  It looked like there was a bundle of blankets on the couch, and as he went to sit down it shifted.</p><p>“You can take the end,” Angel Eyes said.</p><p>It took Mauga a moment to realize the bundle of blankets was Angel Eyes wearing a beanie and a night mask, and had a cat on his chest.  Only his mouth was visible. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”  Mauga sat on the end of the couch and felt Angel Eyes tuck his toes under his thigh.  “You sleep on the couch?”</p><p>“Only sometimes.  PTSD gives me nightmares.”  Angel Eyes adjusted his shoulders.  “My timer is set off to ring at three in the morning, so I wake up and go back to sleep.  This way I don’t wake Trent and Mr. Bolton up.”</p><p>Mauga rested his bowl on his belly.  The alarm would have been the buzzing from before.  “That’s considerate.  You OK if I watch TV?” Mauga asked, and Angel Eyes gestured to the table from under his blanket.</p><p>“Big remote for the TV, little one for the stereo.”  He snuggled his shoulders again and the orange cat settled on his chest.  “Keep it at about sixteen, anything over twenty will wake Trent up.”</p><p>Mauga reached over and scratched the cat’s ears, making him chirp and start to purr.  “Cute little guy.  I like cats.  They’re cool.”</p><p>“Yeah, they can be.  This is Banjo, the white one is Viola.  They don’t get people food.”  </p><p>They sat quietly for a while as Mauga scrolled through local TV in Welsh, then more worldly channels.  He wished he had put his contacts in, but he just didn’t feel like it at the time.  He finally looked over to Angel Eyes.  “You still up?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m still awake.”  Angel Eyes wiggled his toes.  “You’re good at keeping feet warm.”</p><p>“Can I ask you something?”  Mauga put his empty dish on the side table.  “Is it hard being married to two people at once?”</p><p>Angel Eyes mused.  “A little, sometimes.  We get mad at each other, we overcompensate to make up for it, but that’s human nature.  We do our best and we have a policy of never going to bed without talking about what’s biting us.”</p><p>“I can’t imagine being married to one guy,” Mauga admitted.  “I keep screwing up.”</p><p>“Yeah, that's also human nature.”  Angel Eyes paused for a moment.  “Batiste is a very nice man.”</p><p>“He’s amazing,” Mauga said in a dreamy tone.  “He’s kind, and compassionate, and he loves people, he really does!  He makes me want to be a better person around him.”  He heard a small chirp and Viola hopped into his lap effortlessly.  “I don’t deserve him.”</p><p>“That’s not your call to make,” Angel Eyes said.  “Mr. Bolton and I both think Trent is too good for us.  What did we do to deserve him?  But if we put him on a pedestal and say he’s too good for us, we’re isolating him, not loving him.”</p><p>“I thought Baptiste was too good for me so I let him leave without me.”  Mauga then sighed and rubbed Viola’s ears.  “I left him alone to face Talon because he was too good for me.”</p><p>It took Mauga a moment to realize Angel Eyes was comfortingly patting him with his foot with a ‘there there’.</p><p>“It’s gonna be OK, OK?” Angel Eyes said softly.  “And don’t just be a better person around him, be a better person.  He can’t change you, only you can change you, and he really cares about you.  When he got here to look after you he hip checked a five hundred pound omnic medic to get to you.  Didn’t leave your side for hours.  Kept telling us how you like your bed and what tea we should have when you woke up.  He went through the kitchen and told us which foods to make.”</p><p>Mauga was embarrassed, but he could make out the smile on Angel Eyes’ face.  “The chicken parm was pretty good,” he admitted.  </p><p>“Thanks, I love to cook.  You want a big hint about relationships?” Angel Eyes asked, and Mauga made an affirmative noise.  “Separate dates.”</p><p>“Separate dates?”</p><p>“Separate dates.  Trent and I love the farmer’s market, we go almost every weekend.  A few nights ago Trent and Mr. Bolton went to Shakespeare on the Green, they love theater, I’m too ADHD to sit through it.  After that Mr. Bolton and I went sailing.  Mr. Bolton likes sailing, but not the farmer’s market.  Trent doesn’t like water that much, so, separate dates.  You don’t have to be glued to Baptiste’s hip.  You’re both going to have different interests and friends, and that’s OK, that’s good!”</p><p>Mauga mused on this.  “Well, I like wrestling, Jeanie’s never been big on it.  We both like surfing.  He likes painting.”</p><p>“That’s great!  That’s a start!” Angel Eyes said brightly, but his voice was fading.  “You can watch wrestling with someone else and Baptiste knows you’re still coming home to him.  And he can go to a painting class and you know he’s going to want to show you what he’s done.”  Angel Eyes adjusted his feet and Mauga automatically lifted his thigh so Angel Eyes could tuck his toes under it again.</p><p>"I should get him some brushes.  He’s murder on brushes.  Man can stitch you up and not leave a scar but he’s killed every paint brush he’s ever had.”</p><p>“Good start!”  Angel Eyes’ voice kept getting quieter.  “It takes work.  Lots of work.”  He yawned a little and his body relaxed a bit more.  “Keep working.”  His voice faded and his breathing steadied.</p><p>Mauga watched television for another half hour before giving up on the movie he was watching.  He gently put Viola on Angel Eyes’ lap as he stood up, and Angel Eyes mumbled something and continued to sleep.</p><p>Mauga put his dishes in the dishwasher and returned to the room.</p><p>Baptiste woke up when he opened the door and looked up.  “Y’OK?” he slurred, and sat up.</p><p>Mauga sat by him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  He pulled him close and kissed his temple.  “Yeah, feeling good.  Let’s go home tomorrow.”</p><p>“Sieb’s doing better, yeah, we can return.”  Baptiste stretched and leaned into Mauga.  “What time is it?”</p><p>“Around four, I think.  C’mon, back to bed.”  Mauga lay down and took Baptiste with him.  It took Baptiste only a few minutes to get back to sleep, but Mauga lay there for most of an hour before fading away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Up and Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga and Siebren are ready to return to the Rock - a very peaceful chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Mauga woke up Baptiste was gone, but he had left a note saying he was with Siebren.  It was easier to shower and dress himself today, and he did so in some of Post’s jeans and a Sailor Mars t-shirt.  As he put his contacts in he could finally see what the art on the wall was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of it was landscape photographs, one was his hosts’ cats, and the others were anime artwork.  He got up and admired some of it, and pulled one off the wall to see it better.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a watercolor of Angel Eyes as an anime cat boy, signed by the artist Mr. BIG!, and he mused.  He knew that name.  After a moment he snapped his fingers.  Mr. BIG! wrote a few manga he read and loved when he was younger, the war chronicles of Call Sign: Bright Eyes, the fantasy story “From Worlds Away,” and a magical girl story called “I am Andromeda.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put the portrait back after reading the dedication.  “Hop to it, Little Guy, love, the Big Guy.”  Mauga wondered who Little Guy was as he straightened the picture.  His stomach soured a little as he realized he was never getting his manga collection back.  Still, life moved on.  He made his way to Siebren’s room and knocked, and Baptiste opened the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rein’s finally sleeping,” he said quietly, and waved Mauga inside.  “Siebren’s up, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Rein snored in the reclining chair, Lúcio slept on a cot in the corner, curled up with a giant plush Banjo Kitty under a Banjo Kitty blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga wondered if Angel Eyes was the anime fan of the house; he decorated his guest room with manga pictures and named his cats after two anime characters, Banjo and Viola Kitty from “The Magical Adventures of Banjo and Viola Kitty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren was sitting up.  He still looked tired, but he was awake and holding a cup of tea.  He was wearing one of Post’s anime shirts, a Sailor Mercury shirt.  “Ah, Mauga, how are you?” he asked softly.  His voice was pale and it seemed like it took too much effort to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feeling better, doc, you?”  Mauga did his best to keep his voice down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired, mainly.”  Siebren went to float his tea cup but almost lost it, and Baptiste put it on the table.  “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that you’re both awake we’ll call Lena and get a ride back to the Rock,” Baptiste said.  “Why don’t you run down to the kitchen and get some breakfast, Mauga?  Siebren, I need you to eat something too, OK?”  His voice came out a little more condescending than he meant it while speaking quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll grab something for him.”  Mauga squeezed Baptiste’s shoulder and walked down the hall to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trent was mending a shirt while Angel Eyes was kneading some dough, once more wearing his jumpsuit and some sanitation gloves.  This time they were yellow.  “Oh, you’re up!” Trent said cheerfully.  “We made some breakfast if you like.  It’s in the fridge, ready to be heated up, and the porridge is done.”  He finished working on his buttonhole and examined his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need something for Siebren, Jeanie wants him to eat.”  Mauga opened the fridge and mused at it. He grabbed what looked like hash browns and ham, and a few eggs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, see the pot on the stove?  It’s congee, rice porridge.” Angel Eyes said as he rolled the dough.  “A friend showed me how.  Post said take anything you need from the closet, except the stuff in the blue and black garment bags and his underwear, that would be weird.  I brought the sewing machine up, it’s in the front room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can have my hard light dummy.  It’s nice, but I never used it.  You need a body scanner to make the dummy and I never got around to that.”  Trent picked up another button from the box and started to sew it on.  “Oh, take that juice with you, Baptiste wants him to get some sugars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga gave the congee a long sniff.  “Wow, this smells good.”  He could smell chicken and ginger, along with a few other spices he didn’t identify at first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trent stood up and reached into a storage space under a counter.  “Here, put the pot here and take some bowls.”  Trent pulled out a wooden serving tray and dropped a trivet on it.  “Baptiste has been scolding Reinhardt about eating.  You’re going to need some more protein, too.  Oh, you’ll need some fats, both of you.  Let me get some more bacon, we’ve got a rasher that needs eaten up.”  Trent quickly went to the fridge.  “And carbs, I’ll get some bread heated up, the good brown stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, who’s the weeb?” Mauga asked as Trent put some glasses on the tray.  “The guest room is full of manga art.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weeb?” Trent asked, and rolled his eyes.  “Oh, the room!  That’s Post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s my buddy!” Angel Eyes said as he floured the table some more.  “He stayed half a year after his heart surgery and decorated the guest room.  He and his wife Billie were here, and their girls, Melody and Serena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga resisted rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes saw and laughed.  “Yeah, he’s kinda, he likes his anime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trent continued to pile food on the tray.  “Carbs, protein, fluids, Baptiste will want fluids.  I’ll get some fresh tea started.  And I’ll get some of those grilled veggies, those came out nice, Lúcio liked them.  They’ll be so tasty with the congee!”  Trent quickly set more food on the heating tray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga almost didn’t make it out of the kitchen without a full seven course meal.  </span>
</p><p>
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</p><p>
  <span>Mauga packed a few more shirts into the tote, and looked at the rest.  He felt he had enough and called it good; he didn’t need that many open button down shirts to wear over t-shirts.  “I think I’m done.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes wrapped the shoes Post left behind in paper and packed them in the tub.  “You sure you’re good?  We can pack more.  Baptiste said you like manga, we’ve got some you can have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naw, not unless you’ve got a full set of ‘Sky Witches,’” Mauga joked.  “I never got to finish reading it, I got too busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on.”  Angel Eyes pulled out a second plastic tote from the closet and opened it.  “We got Banjo Kitty, that’s mine, you can’t have that.  Ah, here, Magical Mermaid Moondrop, Rainbow Crystal Plus, oh, here, Sky Witches, all ten books!”  He pulled out a bundle of books tied in a ribbon and held them out.  “We’ve also got all the Call Sign Series, Bright Eyes, Fever Dream, Mountain, all of those.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga pulled out Call Sign: Bright Eyes.  “Whoa, where did you get these?  Bright Eyes has been out of print for years!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming Talon took all your stuff and gave it to the Tart Squad?” Angel Eyes asked as he pulled out another manga set.  “You can take what you want, I’ve already read them and got them on digital.”  He pulled out another Banjo and Viola Kitty book and put it aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga quickly pulled the books out, putting the cat manga to the side.  He looked down at them, fingers itching to untie the ribbons and read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take’em.  Post has plenty, and besides, he left them here.”  Angel Eyes removed a few more books and put them on the bed, then put the loose books back in the tub.  “Here, get your collection started again.  I’ve got them on my tablet, I don’t need the books.”  He scooted the tote towards Mauga.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga stared, suddenly suspicious.  “Are you sure?  Why are you so nice?  Housing and feeding me, you don’t even know me.”  He poked Angel Eyes’ shoulder.  “Why, I bet I’m the reason you couldn’t sleep right the last few nights!  You’ve got a stranger in your house!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that's true, it was hard to sleep with someone I don’t know in my house.  But you’ve been a fine guest and Baptiste and Lúcio vouched for you.”  Angel Eyes stood up.  “Besides, it’s the right thing to do.  You were badly hurt and you couldn’t fly back over France, and we had the medical gear to help you.  Baptiste didn’t want to move you, well, mainly Dr. de Kuiper, in case he woke up and panicked, so you stayed.  And now you can help me get some closet space back.  It does me no harm and does you good, so, I do it.”  He held his hand out to help Mauga up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga suddenly found himself slung over Angel Eyes’ shoulders.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes was rather average height, but he had no issue doing squats with Mauga on his shoulders.  “Besides, I can take you.”  He bent down and let Mauga stand up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a super soldier!” Mauga snapped.  “You’re strong, like Soldier!”  Mauga felt he should have guessed that; Angel Eyes and Soldier: 76 seemed to be similar in age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s stronger, but I’m faster and not cranky.”  Angel Eyes rolled his shoulders and stared up at Mauga, arms across his chest.  “I have had nothing, and I have had what little nothing I did have taken from me, only to be helped by others who had nothing.  I’ve been  fed, clothed, and housed by those who gained nothing from it.  What right do I have to deny someone else comfort and care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga stared down at him and nodded.  He realized how little Angel Eyes was to him, almost a full foot shorter.  “Post drew that picture of you as a cat, didn’t he?” he asked suddenly.  Realization dawned on Mauga as Angel Eyes nodded.  “I just stole Mr. BIG!’s books!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angel Eyes laughed at him.  “He GAVE them to you.  Like I said, I can get more, and I have them on digital.  C’mon, let’s get you started on a new manga collection.”  He pushed the tub a little closer and Mauga picked it up.</span>
</p><p>
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</p><p>
  <span>Mauga let Angel Eyes load everything on the hover cart; he was the super soldier, after all.  His hand kept tapping the tub with the manga in it, eager to re-read his favorites and finish another one.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena had flown a smaller ship she had named Zippy, but she couldn’t land too close to the house; Mr. Bolton didn't want her to scare the horses.  As a result she had landed half a mile away, down the hill and in a pasture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga liked how open the area was.  The nearest house was in ear shot if you yelled, but no closer.  The walk to Zippy didn’t appeal to him though, since he didn’t care for the weather.  It was cool and overcast with the threat of rain, even though it was supposed to be autumn.  “Does it ever get warm here?” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” Angel Eyes said as he loaded an over-sized chair onto the cart.  He had packed a large mattress, as well, and some bedding.  He had done it without asking, and Mauga wasn’t about to stop him.  “It’s grey and misty here almost year round.  We’re lucky it isn’t raining!”  He grinned and turned his face to the sky.  There was barely enough sunlight to reflect off of his tinted goggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you Italian?” Mauga asked.  “Don’t you like heat and sunshine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I might have been born in Rome, but my mama worked in Trento.  Travel was cheap and only two hours on the Mercury line so we split our time between Trento and Rome.”  He looked up at Mauga.  “In Trento, the summers are nice, the winters are cold, and it’s overcast year round.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Italian Wales, got it.”  Mauga watched as Reinhardt carried Siebren from the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we have a wheelchair, right?” Angel Eyes asked.  He gestured to the hover cart.  “Or a big chair on a hover cart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but I prefer mijn ridder,” Siebren said with a soft smile.  “This is decidedly more comfortable.”  He couldn't help but kick his legs a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And a wheelchair cannot give you a kiss if it thinks you need one,” Reinhardt said gently and pressed a kiss to Siebren’s temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siebren grinned broadly at him.  “And you are far warmer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re kinda sweet, in an overly-sweet way,” Mauga said and rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One day you’ll be older,” Reinhardt threatened.  “Then you’ll wish you were sweeter in your youth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, maybe.”  Mauga moved as Lúcio skated by, and Angel Eyes whistled at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put it back.”  His voice was surprisingly firm for his usually laid back nature.  “I can and I will catch you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lúcio sighed and turned, shoulders down, and returned to the porch.  He handed Trent the giant Banjo Kitty plush he had been sleeping with and started skating to the Zippy.  The uneven terrain made skating hard, though, so he locked his skates and walked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got six of those!” Baptiste scolded as Lúcio passed him.  “There’s no room on the bed for anyone but you and your giant plushies!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I don’t have a giant cat!” Lúcio shouted back over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you really catch him?  When he’s on his skates?” Mauga asked Angel Eyes as they neared the road.  He could see Zippy in the field across from the house.  Someone had left it and was working their way to the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he can,” Reinhardt said knowingly.  “You don’t understand how scary Angel Eyes can be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauga pondered a few steps.  “No, if he’s who I think he is in battle, he can be scary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have been a pink martial artist, green with a gun, blue strong man, and multiple colors with a stick,” Angel Eyes said in a bright tone, cheerfulness returned.  “And karaoke guy number two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they reached the road Mauga could see the figure was Ophanim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Opie, how are you?” Angel Eyes asked as he got closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had her hair in a loose ponytail and was wearing Overwatch sweatpants, her Outsider boots, and a Frogzilla t-shirt from Lucio's fashion line.  “Dr. Ziegler repaired the broken connection in my eyes and Winston repaired my hearing aids.”  Now that she could hear again her voice sounded less flat.  “He gave me a few extra sets.”  She hefted a tote bag with her clothes and items in it.  “They also synthesized your ADHD meds and antidepressants.  You’ve got a ninety day supply of each.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, that was nice!  They’re both very nice!” Angel Eyes said.  “I think we’ve got that red dress you wore last week if you want to change, Trent's leggings should fit you.  Why don’t you head up to the house, we’ll have brunch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ophanim pulled Angel Close by his shoulder and kissed his cheek.  She was almost an inch taller than him. so neither had to adjust much.  “I will take you up on that.”  She waved to everyone and made her way to the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They loaded Siebren into Zippy first, having him sit sideways with the seats in the bench position.  Everyone else sat in their seats, and Baptiste and Angel Eyes made sure Mauga’s luggage was secured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OK, thanks for the visit, you guys get some rest.  Rein, doc, next time you visit you can ride the horses.  I made sure to pack some sauce, don't let Jack tell you his is better, he isn't Italian.  I’m glad everyone’s feeling better, and God speed!”  He stepped back and Lena shut the bay doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is always so nice,” Reinhardt said with a nod.  “We should have at least seen the horses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s always later, mein ridder,” Siebren soothed.  “When I’m feeling better, that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baptiste reached into the tub with the manga and pulled one out.  “Want me to read while we ride?” he asked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of Mauga’s finest memories were of Baptiste reading the latest manga or comic while on long flights.  “You gonna do the voices?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you called us sweet,” Siebren smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OK, this is called Callsign: Scarecrow.  The cover has a scary looking woman in a scarecrow style mask,” Baptiste said and held the cover book up as he described it.  He leaned against Magua’s side as usual and started to read.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Back Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mauga returns The Rock and has a good discussion with Baptiste, Lucio and Genji.</p><p>Then he and Baptiste have an after-sex chat.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baptiste had finished Call Sign: Scarecrow by the time they landed.  He had used different voices for different characters, described the action, then held up the book.  He had fond memories of reading out loud to the others on long rides, one of the few Talon memories that didn’t make his stomach twist into knots.</p><p>Reinhardt had found it highly amusing, but they all quickly became engrossed in the story.   It was a revenge story, and had a satisfying and bitter ending as Scarecrow realized revenge wasn’t exactly what she wanted.</p><p>Mauga loved every minute of it.</p><p>Once they landed John took over the hover cart.  “You’re recovering, give me that thing,” John said bluntly.</p><p>“Hey, isn’t Jack a nickname for John?” he asked, and John nodded.</p><p>The old soldier nodded.  “Always preferred Jack to Johnny.”  Jack gave the hover cart a nudge and led it down the ramp.</p><p>Mauga mused for a moment.  “That’s why John was a stupid fake name then, huh?” </p><p>“Partially, yeah.  Is this all going to your room?” Jack asked and adjusted the load a little.  He eyed the jars of sauce and nodded.  “I see Marcus hasn’t gotten less generous.”  He started to guide the cart down the hall.  “You feeling better?”</p><p>Mauga thought about it for a moment.  His ribs no longer hurt, the bullet wound on his shoulder had closed, and the slashes on his ribs only hurt when he bent over too fast.  He had Baptiste back.  Two days of rest and exceptionally rich food had done him a world of good.  “You know what?  I do!”  He felt he could use some honest sunshine, though, and planned to sit outside for a while.</p><p>“Good, get to Winston, he wants to debrief you.  He’s in the lab, as usual.”  </p><p>They reached his room and Mauga opened the door to let Jack steer the cart inside.  “You know where it is, straight down the hall and left.”</p><p>Mauga started to leave, then paused.  “Thanks for telling Markie about the sewing machine,” he said quietly.  It felt weird, but good, to thank him.  </p><p>Baptiste was rubbing off on him.  </p><p>That and four years of therapy.</p><p>“Only Trent calls him that,” Jack said as he untied the mattress.  “And you’re welcome.”</p><p>Mauga waved at him and continued down the hall towards Winston’s labs.  He passed a few people who greeted him warmly and asked about him, and finally came to the double doors.  Mauga stepped forward and they opened with a chime, and he entered.</p><p>The lab was, as usual, cluttered with equipment and research.  Winston was playing pop music and singing along as he tinkered with a small device.  “Oh, Mauga, there you are!” he said as he looked up.</p><p>Mauga realized his chain guns were sitting on the table, partially disassembled, and he walked over to them.  The mystery boxes were sitting off to the side, partially disassembled.  “I thought you weren’t going to go through my gear,” Mauga said in a dark tone.</p><p>“Normally, ah, normally we wouldn’t, but, you see, there’s this.”  Winston put down his tiny screwdrivers and knuckle walked to the table.  He picked up the mystery box and held it out.</p><p>“I never did figure out what that part did.”  Mauga was trying very hard not to be angry.  “Was hoping to figure it out with better tools.”</p><p>“It’s a temperature control box, but it’s got a hidden component.”  Winston rotated the piece and opened it up.  </p><p>Mauga took it and peered inside the compartment he could never get open.  “Every time I took it out the guns quit working.  I figured it was a safety feature since it connected to the cooling tanks.”</p><p>“Well, you’re not wrong.  This box?  It’s a disruptor.  It pauses the guns when the temperature gets, when it gets too high. It breaks the connection between the control and the, hm, the weapon.”  Winston adjusted his glasses.  “It can also disrupt Athena’s communication system and the security.”</p><p>“I did that to him,” Mauga said softly as he understood.  “They used the mystery box to shut off Athena and the security, and then Siebren came out to investigate, and they hurt him.”</p><p>“You didn’t do that to him,” Winston said in a comforting tone.  He planted a massive hand on Mauga’s shoulder, and when Mauga went to roll it off, gripped stronger.  “I didn’t even know what it was!  Zarya was helping secure the weapon when she recognized the safety box was different.  Then we, we opened it up and studied it.”  He pulled his hand away.</p><p>Mauga rotated the box, took a deep breath, then slammed it on the table.  “OK, I’m in.”</p><p>“In?” Winston asked in confusion.</p><p>“Overwatch,” Mauga said firmly.  “I’m in Overwatch.  Give me a few days to get my gear up to snuff and I’m your new star agent.”</p><p>Winston stared for a moment, then adjusted his glasses again.  “I, OK, we’d love to have you, you’re a great asset.”</p><p>“I’m not doing this because it’s the right thing to do,” Mauga snapped suddenly.  “I’m doing this for Baptiste.  And Siebren.  I don’t know when he’ll be ready for battle and I got him hurt.  I owe you guys a shield.”</p><p>“You didn’t-” Winston started.</p><p>“I brought in weird tech I didn’t know what would do.”  Mauga paused.  “That sentence makes sense, fight me.  I’m the reason he’s hurt, so I gotta make up for that.  I can’t just be a good person when Baptiste is watching, I need to be good when he’s not here!” he insisted.  “I mean,” he said, pausing.  “I want to be what he wants me to be.  I want to be, you know, good enough for him.”</p><p>“He wants you to be you,” Winston said gently.  “And I think you’re on a really good start.”  He clapped Mauga’s arm and nodded at him.  “You want to tell the others at dinner?”</p><p>“Yeah, at dinner.”  Mauga picked up the box and glared at it.  He was tempted to squeeze it until it broke, then he wanted to slam it into the table until the table broke, too.  Instead he put it down as he imagined Baptiste’s concerned face looking up at him.</p><p>
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</p><p>“OK, move, newest Overwatch agent coming through,” Muaga said as he shimmied sideways past Junkrat.</p><p>The Junker’s left knee was still in a brace, but he was walking fairly easily now.</p><p>Mauga’s announcement wasn’t quite how Winston imagined the announcement going, but it did the trick.</p><p>“What changed your mind, big guy?” Lúcio asked as he stepped aside.</p><p>Mauga took a breath and focused.  “My guns had a device that shut down Athena in them, and because of that Siebren got hurt.  The guy doesn’t deserve that shit, he just wants to talk about space and stars and he said something creepy about trees once but I kinda blocked it out.  But I brought in the disruptor, I need to take responsibility.  So.  Here I am.  Agent of Overwatch.”</p><p>He tried not to look directly at Baptiste’s beaming face lest he go blind.</p><p>Several hands clapped his back in support and appreciation, and he sat down at the table.</p><p>“I’ll put you on the chore rotation,” Jack said and pulled out his phone.</p><p>“Not now, old man,” Farehaa said as she took it from him.  “Give him a few days to get his kit repaired.”</p><p>“Fine, fine, I’ll wait.”  Jack held his hand out and Farehaa looked at him.  He sighed and relented.  “Please.”</p><p>“There you go!” she said brightly as she dropped it in his hand.  “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”</p><p>“You are so much like your mother,” he muttered and shoved the phone back into his pocket.  “Alright, Outsider sent us back two healed agents and a mess of brown bread and sauce, so we got carbs.”  He started scooping penne pasta and sauce into bowls.  “He made vegetable pasta as well.  Here you go, Satya.”  He used both hands to hand Satya a bowl, and she accepted it with a nod.  Jack continued to serve until the pots were almost empty, then finally served himself.  After the pasta he pulled a casserole out of the oven for those still hungry.</p><p>Dinner was a little quieter tonight, not quite as hectic as the first one Mauga experienced.  After dinner they had coffee and pie and just chatted for a while.  Mauga could get used to this quality of food.  Talon had good food, but this was somehow far tastier.  He supposed being close to Baptiste had that effect.</p><p>“Hey, Mauga?” Baptiste asked as they loaded their plates into the dishwasher.  “Genji and Lúcio want to talk.”</p><p>Mauga nodded at him.  “Yeah, we can do that.”  </p><p>Baptiste took his hand and led him out the back door to the kitchen.  Outside was a nice seating area, a massive grill, and picnic table with a large, colorful umbrella over it.  “Those steps head to the beach,” Baptiste said as he pointed.  “Turn right, that’s the beach we hang out at, and a little further is the Junker’s camp.  Turn left and it takes you to some out buildings.”  </p><p>He led Mauga through the outside eating area and along a path to the sole hill on the Rock.  It was covered with Aleppo pines and ferns, and had a soft breeze.</p><p>Genji and Lúcio were sitting on a soft patch of grass, waiting for them. </p><p>Mauga rubbed his thumb across Baptiste’s hand, and Baptiste gave him a good squeeze.  He supported Baptiste as he sat down, then Mauga sat down near him.</p><p>“Genji, Lúcio, this is Mauga.  I’ve known him most of my life.”  Baptiste put his hand on Mauga’s knee.  “He’s been there for my best times, and my darkest.  Hell, he’s been both all the good things and all the hard things in my life.”</p><p>Mauga put his hand over Baptiste’s, and Baptiste flipped his hand over so they could hold hands.  Mauga looked down at him.  “You’re, like, a good ninety percent of my impulse control.  Well, used to be.  I think I’m up to a good forty percent of my own impulse control now.”  He sighed.  “I want to be better.  I don’t think I can lose you again.”</p><p>Baptiste gave Mauga’s hand a squeeze.  “Mauga, this is Lúcio and Genji.  When we last met each other I got a hold of Angela.  I was hoping for just a few weeks to hide out, but I realized I could do a lot of good here.  I was pretty upset when I got here, and Genji taught me to meditate, and Lúcio helped me feel better.  We just, well, kinda fell together as a unit.  I was lonely.”</p><p>“Took two guys to replace me, too,” Mauga said in a smug tone.  “Sorry, sorry!” he said with a laugh, but he wasn’t sorry and they all knew it.  He held up his arm to block Baptiste’s playful swats.</p><p>“Honestly, I’m opening my heart to all of you,” Baptiste muttered without ill intent.  He knew Mauga only meant to lighten the mood.  He gave Mauga one more swat just to hear his ridiculous chuckle, then took his hand again.</p><p>“Lúcio and I were talking,” Genji said, “and we decided that if you want to return to Mauga, you should be with him.”</p><p>“Yeah, man,” Lúcio added, “we just want you to be happy.”</p><p>Mauga could feel Batiste’s grip change slightly.  “They aren’t giving you away, buddy” he said quietly.  “They want you to be happy.”  He gave a gentle squeeze.  “Guys, we can’t just lock Jeanie out.  He deserves to be happy, and if we just lock him in a case because he’s too good for all of us, we’re not helping, we’re locking him up.  Buddy, what do you want?”</p><p>Baptiste looked up at Mauga, pride and adoration on his face.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  Mauga being so open helped him admit it.  “You’re home.  You’re who I know best, and who knows me.  You’re part of me.”  He took Mauga’s hand in both hands, and took a breath.  “But you’re, well, you were, toxic sometimes.”</p><p>Mauga only nodded at him.  He wanted to be angry, but knew he had no right.  </p><p>“Genji feels like peace, he feels like an island of green in the desert of chaos.  And Lúcio is joy and brightness.  I love all three of you.”</p><p>Mauga nodded.  “We’re winning.”  His statement was firm and final.</p><p>“Winning?  Winning what?” Lúcio asked.</p><p>“At being gay.  Markie has only TWO husbands, but Baptiste has THREE boyfriends!” he answered with a broad smile and a grand gesture.  </p><p>“That’s not how that works,” Baptiste started to protest.</p><p>Genji held up his hand.  “Yes, it is.”</p><p>“Guys,” Lúcio protested.  “It’s sexuality, not a contest!”</p><p>The four bickered back and forth for a few moments, and were eventually drowned out by Mauga’s laughter.</p><p>He reached down and drew a circle in the dust.  “This is how I used to think things were.  We were in a circle.  We would fight, we would make up, we would move on.”  He continued to draw his finger around the circle.  “But I’ve come to learn we’re not in a circle, we’re in a loop.”  He drew another circle, then continued drawing the line in a straight line.  “We can break free of our pattern.  Make new designs.”</p><p>“Therapy has been REALLY good for you,” Baptiste said in a proud voice.  He sighed as Mauga continued to draw the line in the shape of a penis pointing towards Baptiste.  He rolled his eyes at Mauga as the other man laughed when Lúcio and Genji started embellishing it.</p><p>“I find tranquility in art,” Genji said in a serene voice and doodled copious amounts of pubic hair on the doodle.</p><p>Baptiste shook his head with a chuckle, then started drawing the vein on the penis.</p><p>
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</p><p>Mauga sat on his new mattress, and bounced a little.  It was better than the hard light mattress by leaps and bounds.  He looked at the bedding Angel Eyes had sent over, picked a pale blue sheet, and made his bed.</p><p>His bed.</p><p>It wasn’t his old bed with the butt dent where he liked it, but it was a nice bed.  He had a good supply of clothes and shoes, and </p><p>He had a nice bookshelf Reinhardt had put together for his manga, and he ran his hand over the spines of the books.  He now had all twelve Call Sign stories, and all fourteen books of Call Sign: Bright Eyes, and the entire runs of Magical Mermaid Moondrop, Rainbow Crystal Plus, Sky Witches, Mr. BIG!’s short stories in a collection, and a handful of young girl’s romance manga.</p><p>Maybe he could get a desk later so he could do some sort of hobby.  He loved assembling Gundam models and small electrical kits, and he had surprisingly nimble fingers despite his bulk.  Maybe he could get back into sculpting, he always liked messing with clay.</p><p>Maybe he could get a few plants, some throw cushions, a few hanging lanterns?  He could make this place a home.  He had two rooms, a front room and a sleeping room, and a bathroom.  .</p><p>The agents used to have one room each, with a shared bathroom with a neighbor, so the bathroom was not horrible.  It just wasn’t the massive open space Angel Eyes had.  Mauga never thought he would miss a bathroom!  The bathroom could easily be made larger, though, once Torbjörn removed the mirrored sink and redid the shower, but it would never have the open windows to let in what sunlight Wales did get.</p><p>He sat in the chair in the front room, and tried to collect his thoughts.  As he was thinking of what color to repaint his armor, someone knocked on the door, and he answered it.</p><p>Baptiste stood in the hall.  He took Mauga by the hand, and Mauga hauled him into the bedroom.</p><p>It was a silent body language that each of them had learned over the years.  They knew what each other wanted, and knew how to give it to the other.  The peeled clothes from each other and Mauga shoved, and Baptiste lay down on the bed. </p><p>Mauga held Baptiste’s hands above his head, pressing down hard on his wrists with one hand and stretched Baptiste out.  His right hand gripped Baptiste’s cock and tugged, and his mouth found Baptiste’s mouth.  He only let go long enough to grab the lube from Baptiste’s pants, and slicked his fingers good.</p><p>He shoved a finger into Baptiste’s asshole, not even pretending to be gentle.  He kept the pressure on Baptiste’s wrists, and pressed deeper, deliberately missing his prostate.  Mauga worked on Baptiste’s neck, and soon Baptiste was writhing on the bed, eager for release Mauga wasn’t giving him.</p><p>Mauga’s hands were large enough he could still get his thumb around Baptiste’s cock while plunging a second, then third, finger into him.  He added more lube, slicked his cock up, and flipped Baptiste over, making sure he flopped on the bed.</p><p>Baptiste loved being manhandled.  </p><p>It was something neither Lúcio or Genji did strongly enough for him.</p><p>Mauga straddled Baptiste, and Baptiste held his arms behind him.  Mauga gripped his wrists again, shoved them up towards Baptiste’s shoulders, and planted his other hand on the bed.  He gave his cock a few pumps, returned his hand to he bed, then pressed inside Baptiste.</p><p>Baptiste let out a high pitched noise that morphed into a groan.  The stretch, the burn, the iron hard rod that was Mauga’s cock, his inability to move, it all started a fire he could feel in his belly and the base of his throat.</p><p>After a few strokes Mauga adjusted his position, knocking Baptiste’s right leg more open and gripping his chest.  One had squeezed a breast while the other gripped Baptiste’s cock, and he continued to thrust.  The hand gripping Baptiste’s breast eventually moved up to his chin, and Mauga slid his thumb inside Baptiste’s mouth.</p><p>Baptiste eagerly began to suck.</p><p>“Good boy,” Mauga said darkly into his ear, and aimed downwards, tilting his hips and making sure to stab at Baptists’ prostate.  He let Baptiste's grip go to grip his cock, and he squeezed the base of Baptiste's shaft tightly.</p><p>Baptiste groaned around Mauga’s thumb and wanted to come, but Mauga’s grip on his cock prevented that.  He could feel Mauga release in him, and finally, Mauga’s hand loosened its grip.  He could feel relief and agony and pleasure roll over him, and Baptiste settled with a sigh.</p><p>“Such a pretty boy,” Mauga hissed in his ear as he lay on top of him.  "You're my good little boy."</p><p>They dozed for a while, and finally awoke, sticky and reeking of sex.  They had to take turns in the shower, and while Mauga was bathing, Baptiste made the bed.  Once Mauga was out of the shower they lay down on the fresh sheets and simply held each other.</p><p>Mauga gently petted and stroked Baptiste.  His left hand was under Baptiste and he stroked his back, and with his right hand he ran his thumb over Baptiste’s cheek and ear.</p><p>Baptiste’s left hand massaged Mauga’s hairline, and his right rested on Mauga’s chest.  “If I asked, would you really be fine letting me go?” he asked quietly.</p><p>“No, not really,” Mauga said in an equally soft tone.  “But, I would let you.”</p><p>Baptiste smiled up at him.  “You know, I do love them.  But I’m IN love with you.”</p><p>Mauga gave a sad smile.  “Yeah, they’re better people than I am.”</p><p>Baptiste slapped Mauga’s chest.  “Genji is a little shit and you know it.  He was once a rotten thing, but he learned and grew.  So did you.  I think Lúcio just started nice and got nicer.”  He traced Mauga’s ear with his fingertips.  “I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>“Well, I’ll just have to be better than them!” Mauga stated.  “I’ll be so serene you won’t even know I’m there!  And I’ll learn to DJ.”</p><p>“Mauga!” Baptiste said with a laugh.</p><p>“You can’t stop me from learning to DJ,” Mauga warned, and Baptiste laughed.  “I want to be happy, but I want you to be happy, too.  I know we can’t got back to what we left behind.  But I don’t know what’s ahead of us.”</p><p>“I think I’m going to take a week to think about things,” Baptiste said.  “I’ll admit it was kinda scary how quickly you all gave me up!  I know it’s because you want me to be happy, but, still.”</p><p>“Yeah, we’re locking you in a safe, we’re not, you know, using you.  Like gold, I mean.  No, that’s not, wait.  It’s like we’re not stimulating the economy, we’re hoarding you.  No.  Crap.  How did he put it?” Mauga muttered.  “You’re too good for us so we put you away.  We need to ask if you want to go.”</p><p>“I get what you mean,” Baptiste said with a laugh.  “So, are you going to ask me what I want?”</p><p>“I know what you want.  You want a week to clear your head.  Then I want you to come back to me.  But so do Lúcio and Genji.  But you won’t know what you want until you know what you want.”</p><p>“Don’t be mad, but it’s so weird listening to you be so, you know, wise.  Normally you just plow ahead, no care in the world.”  Baptiste settled closer to Mauga’s chest.</p><p>“And look where that got me.  No Baptiste.  So, I tried a new technique.”  He moved Baptiste’s hand back to his hairline.</p><p>Baptiste laughed and continued to massage him.  </p><p>Neither had anymore more to add to the conversation so they faded into sleep.</p>
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